


Being Tall Isn't Everything

by PAW_07



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Destroyed Earth, Gore, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Pak Implantation, Tallest Dib, Tallest Zim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAW_07/pseuds/PAW_07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zim is about to destroy the world and his dying adversary lies there, yet he doesn’t kill Dib. He wants to use that cunning huge head of his, especially now that they are both so tall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Irkens Don't Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader Kira Kyuu

Kill my world and change my flesh,

Forget my name at the very best,

But still I'll stand and recall,

The things you've taken from us all.

...

Zim took a step back as the red liquid seeped closer to his boot. The tall Irken’s attention turned away from the blood that was pooling from the tall human teenager, which laid there whimpering on his lab floor with some more of that disgusting red goo dripping out of his mouth. The Irken didn’t smile at this though. In fact, he seemed disappointed.

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight, earth-monkey. I wanted our last battle to be… worth remembrance. I wanted the memory of it to last for the rest of my life… you disappoint me,” said Zim as he ran one of his clawed hands over his antenna, a loud bang suddenly echoing through the bowels of the base, shaking the very walls. “It seems that the invasion has started and the filthy humans are finally getting what they deserve.”

More blood seeped from the poor human’s body and his scythe-like haircut wobbled as he tried to look up at the tall alien.

“Why?” the human choked, “We both know that Tallest considered you a joke,” the human took another gasping breath and continued, “Why would they finally decide to conquer earth?”

The tall Irken knelt down so the human could look him in the eye. “You can only blame yourself for that, Dib-human. Remember when you stuffed various foods down my throat to see which were poisonous? Well, one of those foods was human chocolate. I sent some to the Tallest and they were very… happy.”

A grin pulled at the corners of Zim’s mouth as he pulled the dying human’s chin into his clawed hand, his words mocking and yet somehow sad, “Thanks for the idea, Dib. The planet will soon be covered in sugar cane and cocoa beans. The Tallest loved chocolate so much that they decided that they’d bring the Armada right over and destroy most life on Earth. Now, they will soon have all the sweets they could possible want, and I'll finally get off this _miserable_ _rock_. I’ve been here eight years! Eight years, Dib-stink! True, the hormones that humans put in all their _nasty_ foods, which I was forced to eat thanks to you, have made me rather tall, but I can take this no more. It was fun Dib, but I have bigger plans now that I’m tall.”

The Irken dropped the boy’s head when the screen beeped; Zim was being hailed. The tall Irken tried not to grin too much as Tallest Red and Purple stared at him from the hail screen.

“Good job, Zim,” said Tallest Red. “It seems Earth was worth something after all.”

“Thank you, my Tallest. I am glad you are pleased. Soon, I’ll be coming up to the Massive and to have the honor of firing the first shot, squishing out all the grimy life on this _filthy_ planet. Oh, I can’t wait!”

Tallest Purple and Red stared at each other for a moment and then back at their fellow Irken, before they replied, “Um, no, Zim.”

The Irken looked at them in confusion, allowing his antennae to fall back. “We’re not squishing out all life?”

Red waved his claw in dismissal. “No, no, Zim. We are squishing out all life, but you won’t be doing the squishing. In fact, you will be one of the beings we’re squishing out.”

Zim raised an antenna still not getting it.

Red sighed, feeling a migraine come on already as he grumbled, “Listen very closely, Zim: You’re an idiot, and we don’t like you. Your transmissions were entertaining for a time, but there’s no way we’re going to allow you back onto Planet Irk so you can try to kill everyone again. So we decided to squish you instead.”

“But I’m an Invader!” pleaded the Irken, “I've proven my worth. I –”

“No! You are not an invader, Zim. You’re a food drone. Your mission was a lie so we could get rid of you. True, you did your fake job, but now with you being so tall… Well, it’s just stupid to allow you to live.”

“Bye Zim, enjoy being squished,” called Purple as the screen went dark.

Zim just stood there a moment, his knees wobbling, before he fell to the floor, pulling his head into his hands. Soon small squealing noises filled the room that could be defined as nothing more than crying. The Irken seemed to remain there forever until something grazed his foot. The Irken opened his eyes slightly. Dib had crawled forward with his elbows leaving a trail of blood behind him like a river of red.

“Dib… beast?” whimpered the Irken uncharacteristically as his antennae rose slightly in confusion. “It seems you were right about me being a defect… and that you would win in the end. You win, Dib… I lose.”

Dib’s glasses hung on his nose, he seemed unable to focus and yet he stared upward. Blood leaked out of the side of his mouth as he struggled to speak. He was dying, and there was no denying it. It was only a matter of time until one of them lost anyway… Dib hadn’t expected that they’d both lose though. Either way, Zim had proven himself to be a good opponent and he didn’t deserve to be degraded like this. True, the Irken had done this to him, basically gutted him, but Dib would rather die with his Earth then be enslaved anyway.

“That’s not… the egotistical… Zim… I’ve known… for… so many years,” said the human, pausing periodically as he struggled for a breath, “You’re… not the real Zim… Zim would… never… give up.”

The Irken slowly pulled his head upwards and stared at Dib. He gazed at him without a sign of emotion on this face, and then all of a sudden the Irken had stumbled to his feet with that glint of determination returning to his eyes.

“Gir!”

The little robot flew down stairs, his optics red. The little machine turned his attention to his master, but not before catching sight of Dib, his optics twitched slightly, but he said nothing of his opinions. “Yes, sir!”

“Pack the larger cruiser, we’re leaving. Re-shrink as many machines as you can, because we’re going to need all that we can carry since we won’t be getting anything from the Tallest anymore.”

The robot saluted and flew off. The sound of screeching metal soon followed. The Irken watched for a moment and then turned his attention back to the dying human. There was a frown on his face now.

“Dib,” said the Irken softly. “Thank you. I can’t believe that I was so willing to give up. I must say this, Dib… you were always a deserving opponent. You are a good soldier. If you had been an Irken you would have been one of the best, maybe even a Tallest one day.”

Dib merely choked on his blood, but he tried to smile. Zim was his worst enemy and best friend combined. True, he was as good as dead, but at least he wasn’t dying alone. That was his last comforting thought before the world went dark, fading away into nothing.

Zim’s antennae twitched with distress and the human passed out from blood loss… and then the words the Irken had just muttered returned to him; Zim stood up facing his computer.

“Computer!”

“Yes,” it sighed.

“I need you to do one last thing …

# ...

_“Dib…”_

_“Dib…”_

_“Dib…”_

“Blue, wake up!”

A pair of huge blue eyes sprang open and he jumped as he stared back into a pair of red orbs as dark as blood.

“Zim?” asked the blue Tallest questionably as his dream started to fade. Was it him or did Zim just call him… Dib?

“What did you just call me, Zim?”

The other Tallest pulled away from his co-ruler and swallowed… _Oops. He let his tongue slip again._

“Nothing, Blue, you were whimpering in your sleep mode,” the other Tallest leaned in close making sure that the advisers couldn’t overhear as he muttered, “You weren’t having dreams again, were you?”

Blue’s eyes widened with horror and he quickly stood up, hovering a little above his co-leader whom was standing on his feet. Irkens did not dream; to dream was considered a defect. He was not broken and even if he were, Blue would never tell anyone about the dreams. _Never_. Besides, what did it matter? Dreams were just meaningless figments… figments that he always seemed to forget when he woke up.

“No, Irkens don’t dream, Zim,” whispered the hovering being. “Now what planet are we eradicating today?”

Zim was silent as he stared at his co-leader and then he threw his head back laughing with excitement. Blue tried not to roll his eyes; Zim enjoyed his job too much… yet Blue did not. True, he was the brains and came up with stunning ideas and new technology which conquered enemies that the last Tallest hadn’t even come close to dominating, yet he still did not find the enjoyment in it that Zim did. Part of him wondered if he only did it for Zim, who seemed to be the voice and the pride and the whole thing. Personally, Blue felt that he should stop Zim, laugh at him, or at least call him space-boy, but he never gave into his urges. They were just figments, like his dreams.

The Irken bit his tongue slightly, but not enough to make it bleed. Blue knew he mustn’t think like that. Last time he mentioned such thoughts to Zim, the other Tallest dropped all this snacks, stopped the invasion of planet Mittoop halfway through and dragged him to the med-room. Blue was in no mood for all that prodding and poking by Zim again, his pak had ached for a month afterwards. In truth, he was kind of surprised he wasn’t dead. Zim had a knack for breaking things and Blue was rather sure that if he weren’t around, their whole civilization would fall apart.

Zim raised an eye in question as he waited for Blue’s reaction… Blue was hiding something. He did that same hand twitching thing the Dib did when he was hiding something. Zim wasn’t in the mood to pry though. He’d bother his counterpart later; right now it was time to destroy the planet.

“Fire the doom gunny things of DOOM!” hissed the tall Irken with a screech of joy, and the planet below lost its blue glint as it slowly turned a grotesque gray as the laser struck the ground.

Blue merely watched with a sad look in his dewy-blue eyes. Every single time they destroyed a blue planet he’d feel sad… yet he had no idea why.

 


	2. I Used to Have Fingers

Dib couldn’t recall where he was, or anything for that matter, except for the color red. It danced behind his eye lids and bit at his limbs in a mocking fashion. It lolled around in his ears as if it were the sea itself, and it nipped at his lips, filling him with a dehydrated feeling even though the redness was supposed to be a liquid. Yet, despite all this, it was warm, _so very warm_ , like the warm life blood that oozed from his side where one of Zim’s spider legs had stabbed him. They had been in a fight and _wait_ … oh, god. He lost that fight and was bleeding to death, wasn’t he? And the Earth? No… _no_!

Dib’s hand instinctively shot to his side expecting to feel the warm ooze between his fingers. Instead, he was met with a jolt of pain as his fingers traced over a bandage. In instinct, the boy arched his back only to slam the back of his head into something metal. A hiss escaped Dib and he slowly opened his eyes. Where was he? Why was he alive for that matter?

The world that met him was blurry and rather undetailed. It took the human a moment to realize that he hadn’t gone blind or anything. Someone must have removed his glasses so he wouldn’t break them in his sleep. Dib blinked once more. From what he could tell he was in a small, dark area. He could hear the  faint hum of engines behind him… Was he in his father’s labs?

The human’s  hopes of being in his father’s lab  were quickly destroyed though. Why would he be in his father’s lab when the world had been destroyed?

The boy would have broken down right there in a fit of tears at the thought, but he wasn’t certain of the world’s fate. All he remembered was whispering something to Zim and then the world went dark. He’d be dead right now if Zim had won, right? Dib sighed in relief at that thought. Yes, he’d be dead if Zim had won.

That thought calmed the human’s mind as he tried to sit up and look for his glasses. Instead, a stifled scream escaped him as he  tried to do so. Dib closed his eyes and hissed in pain as he grabbed at the wound in his side. He couldn’t help but hear the squeak of a chair soon after, and the panicked movement of feet heading his way. The human soon felt a shadow fall over his form when the footsteps stopped. A person was now kneeling next to him, placing a hand over his hand, trying to loosen Dib’s tight grip on his wound.

“Let go , you fool,” hissed the voice and Dib complied. He knew that voice, didn’t he? Was it one of dad’s research assistants? Was he really in dad’s lab?

“Fool! Look what you’ve done! You’ve opened your wound,” hissed his caretaker; Dib wouldn’t help but whimper as he felt a cold, gloved hand wriggled under his shirt and tighten the bandage. “I would re-suture them, but I don’t see the point when the  _gift_ I gave you will be kicking in momentarily.”

“Gift?” the boy whispered as he tried to see who was sitting next to him. Damn. Where were his glasses?

A small chuckle escaped the tall form next to him, his tone almost mocking, “Yes, a wonderful gift , Dib-human. It may hurt at first, but you’ll thank me when it’s through.”

“Hurt? Like in shots and stitches?” grumbled Dib before he grabbed at his throat. Sweet Nessy, he was parched. “Um, could I have some water and maybe my glasses so I can see more than just blurs?”

The blur stared at him for a moment, in silence, before tensely stating, “I don’t think water would be the best thing for you right now.”

The figure continued to stare at Dib, as if observing him. It was almost as if he was entranced by something, and then he stated coldly, “No… definitely not.”

“Okay,” said Dib, uncertainly, “Can I have my glasses at least?”

“Inferior human eyes, I’ll be glad when you’ll be rid of them,” mumbled the figure before he wandered off, and then there was the distinct sound of him shifting items. Dib could only raise an eyebrow at what the person was mumbling. How could he get rid of his eyes? Maybe whoever saved him had hit their head in the process?

The human shifted slightly, trying to dull the pain in his body. It was more like his whole form was on fire. Did he have a fever? His caretaker should at least be giving him water if that was the case. Unless, there was no water to be had? Holy spelldrive! What was going on?

“What do you mean: be rid of them? Who are you, and where am I? You’re not like a homicidal maniac rat person who murders people and collects their eyes, are you?” The teenager swallowed as he asked the next question, receiving nothing for the first. “How did we stop the invasion?”

The shifting sound halted immediately, and Dib could feel the figure’s eyes bearing down on him. A small snicker quickly followed as well as the sound of shifting objects, again.

“So many questions, Dib,” answered his caretaker, though that was still up for debate. “You know that part of you always intrigued me. How could a human be so intelligent? You found it fit to remind me almost every day how knowledge seeking you were, _are_. I’m glad I decided to keep you.”

“Keep me?” whispered Dib nervously. Okay, something was seriously wrong here. He could feel the hairs creeping up the side of his arms. Where were his glasses?! He needed his glasses, and what was this tight squeezing in his chest? It was as if the air was heavy and he felt cold now.

“Yes, keep you. Never did I notice how valuable you were to Zi-, I mean me.”

The stranger’s hands had once again stopped in their searching, completely intrigued with the conversation.

“Keep me?” Keep him from what? _The destruction of the world, perhaps?_ Answered Dib’s mind in a rather matter-o-factly-tone. “No!  Wait, you never answered my earlier question. What happened to Earth?!”

There was only silence from the other being and that was all the answer the human needed.

“No, no, no, _NO_! This is a spaceship, isn’t it! Who are you? Tell me what happened to Earth?! NOW!”

A soft sigh escaped the tall being as he started walking towards Dib. His footsteps echoed softly in the packed room, yet they were not as heavy as a person of that height’s footsteps should have been. They were too light and well placed. Slowly, the other leaned down next to the panicking human, wiping a stray hair out of Dib’s face. The being had something in his hands and Dib was sure that he held his glasses in hand. The human quickly threw a shaking hand outward trying to grab the frail item, but his companion was too fast, leaving Dib’s fingers to grace the air.

“Now, now, be patient, worm- I mean Dib. I’m going to give you your glasses, but I want to ask you if you’re sure you want them. You don’t look so, what’s the word, _pretty_ right now. Humans are always so  touchy about their looks. I personally found them all _disgusting_!” hissed the being until he noticed the confusion on Dib’s face and persisted in a softer tone. “But it’s just for now. Wait with the glasses… You won’t need them soon enough.”

 _Wait_? WHAT! Holy para-science! He had been disfigured, hadn’t he? Oh, god! Oh, god! The human practically clawed the other’s arm off as he begged, “Give me the glasses. GIVE THEM TO ME!”

The figure sighed, relenting, “Fine. It looks bad now, but soon you’ll be thanking me, Dib-worm.”

Dib’s hands shook as if he was coming off of a fix. The other’s hands were so cold, inhumanly so, but, at the moment, he could have cared less about who had saved him. How was he deformed? Was it his face? Was he burned over a large portion of his body? Had he been made into a cyborg? Was he missing a limb? Was he forever crippled? What was wrong with him?!

Slowly, the world came into clarity and Dib felt his face flush with rage as he met the other’s face.

“ZIM,” he seethed as he glanced around the small storage area of the ship, “You evil alien jerk! What have you done to Earth? I’m going to kill you, you bastard! I’m going to kill you!”

Despite the weakness that seemed to own his body earlier, the human found himself suddenly strangling the other. He was going to kill Zim with his own two hands. He was going to choke the life out of him and enjoy every moment of it. He was going to take these hands and dip them in the blood and… and…

Dib suddenly let go of Zim’s neck and the being coughed once or twice, but somehow managed to keep his feet. It was times like these that Zim was glad he had a pak. He didn’t need to breath. He had his pak.

Eyes flashing in rage, the Irkens anger quickly drained into nothingness and somehow he resisted the urge to drag his claws down the other’s face as punishment after he looked into Dib’s eyes. The human wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at his hands with a look of pure unadulterated horror on his face.

The Irken stared at the other’s hands for a moment as well. They were coming along nicely and faster than most pieces. The skin had lost its warm peach glow and was now a sickly pale white, green veins scarcely revealed under the skin. Then there were the two end digits on each hand. The pinkies were both completely black and both ring fingers were turning a dark grey as life was stolen from them. The blood had stopped circulating in the unnecessary digits days ago, trying to decay off the offending fingers as quickly as possible. The remaining fingers were already showing their Irken pride as well: three sets of perfect black claws.

Dib was still staring in shock, unable to comprehend perhaps, but Zim promised that he’d have patience. After all, he planned for him and Dib to be together for a long time. Despite trying to kill each other all the time, they strangely complemented each other very well.

The Irken slowly cupped one of hands over Dib’s hands, allowing the human to watch as he matched their hands up perfectly. It was an unspoken way of telling Dib the news.

“See… it won’t be long now Dib. There won’t be a trace of that filthy human DNA in you soon enough.”

Dib’s eyes were so wide it was as if Zim was looking into the void of space. The human seemed lost for words and before Zim could properly react, Dib had pushed him away and was ripping into his hands with his newfound claws. “What have you done to my hands! My fingers! Why can’t I feel my fingers! My hands!”

“ _My hands!”_

“ _My hands!”_

“My hands!” came a choked gasp, the image slamming itself violently into his mind behind his flickering eyelids, and then there was small gasp quickly followed by a falling sensation as Blue found himself panting on the floor. His eyes darted around from the chair he had fallen out of to the Irkens who were staring in horror at him. Blue’s advisors were quick to react as Blue sat up, stared at his hands as if lost, before choking aloud, “Where are my fingers? Where are my fingers?!”

Blue stared at his three claws for a moment in an utter panic. Where were his fingers? Where were they! The poor panicking being was snapped from his horror as he listened to several small feet pound toward him. He looked up with wide eyes and stood up quickly as two of his advisors rushed to his side.

“My Tallest, what of your hands? Are you hurt somehow? Should we fetch a medical drone?”

The two medium height Irkens grabbed at his hands, but Blue quickly hid them behind his back, feeling embarrassed by his sudden reaction. There it was again, an emotion… _embarrassment_.  Irkens never grew embarrassed of their actions and least of all a Tallest, yet Blue kept feeling a nagging question in the back of his pak: was he really as Irken as he believed himself to be?

“No, no, it was just a dream,” answered that dark blue Tallest quickly; he got a lot of strange looks and quickly corrected himself, “I mean idea. Yes, an idea about hands.”

The advisors only started to look even more worried. Smooth, Blue, smooth. Now everyone thinks you’ve blown a circuit. The two advisors didn’t leave his side either like he was hoping, but instead they both took a step closer, their faces dripping with worrisome expressions. Blue just grinned. Yeah, he knew he had dug a deep hole with the dream word. Irkens did not dream, especially dreams about a filthy human. The last thing he needed were rumors that he was a defect or something. Of course, Zim would probably silence any being for even mentioning such a thing by melting them down for foot medicine. No one dared call his counterpart defective. Either way, another adviser wearing a green robe had walked up to Blue as well, looking worried. Yeah… a deep endless pit of a hole.

Soon, every Irken in the room had stopped working and were staring at him with those huge dewy eyes. For some reason, Blue started to blush. Why the hell was he even blushing? He should be used to all this attention; he was a Tallest after all. Yet, then again, there was this nagging in the back of his pak that said he never got this much attention.

Either way, it was unnerving him. True, he loved talking… to himself. Zim quickly broke him of that, yet Blue always found himself unnerved when everyone would stop whatever they were doing and actually listen to him. Irkens actually listened to him! Okay, now the last adviser was tugging at his robe asking to see his hands. Time to go, last thing he needed was Zim finding out about this. Whatever this was.

“Um, my hands are fine, see,” said Blue as he waved his hands in front of himself for a quick second before pushing the adviser’s hands away, and then awkwardly held his hands to his side. He then decided the awkward stares were unnerving and slowly floated backwards toward the sliding door with all eyes still on him.

“Well,” said Blue as he scratched the back of his head in a nervous manner (he always had a feeling something was supposed to be there), “Got to go.”

And he was out of the door faster than his advisers could call out his name.

…

Zim was lazily sitting in his chair on command deck. It used to be Red’s. He’d never sit in Purples. He was never sure why, but that didn’t matter right now. At the moment, he was enjoying a little show of Gir torturing a service drone. He didn’t know why he still kept Gir around. Maybe it was because the little guy reminded him of Earth every once in a while by mentioning those horrible, filthy Earth tacos or… ugh, tuna. The little robot also brought Blue much joy, yet his counterpart never knew why. Zim knew why, of course. He knew exactly why, yet he wouldn’t be telling Blue why anytime soon, and if possible, never.

A screech echoed over the room, and Zim threw back his head in a wailing laugh as Gir pulled on the poor servant’s antenna. Zim never grew tired of that.

“Hey, you, you! Listen to me! Listen to Zim! I don’t care if Gir is ripping off your antennae. I want snacks!”

The poor little Irken let out a whimper when Gir finally jumped off and attacked the adviser who had just walked through the sliding doors. The servant left the room sniffling as his antennae twitched. Now Zim took his entertainment from the adviser’s suffering as he thrashed around tripping on his robes, trying to get the little defective SIR off of his head. Finally, the poor guy collapsed noisily at his Tallest’s feet, and Gir jumped off into his master’s lap. Zim quickly gave Gir a lollypop before the little mechanical monster decided to ride him like a donkey as well.

“Thanks Master! I like tuna!”

And with that, the SIR unit stole the drink from his master’s hand as well as the lollipop and ran out of the doors while screeching. An echo of horrified screams filled the hall, and a grin couldn’t help but pull at Zim’s lips. The red Tallest shifted out of his slouched position to tower properly over the whimpering adviser at his feet.

“Don’t tell me there’s a snack shortage,” grumbled Zim, “Because if there is, you’ll surely suffer for interrupting my entertainment time… and losing me my drink.”

The adviser swallowed and slowly raised to his feet, trying to smooth out some wrinkles in his robe as he did so, his tone choked, “No-no, my Tallest. It-it’s just that I was looking for Tallest Blue. He-he seemed greatly distressed earlier about his hands, so we’ve been looking for him in order to have a medical drone look at his hands.”

A surprised squeak escaped the adviser when he found a shadow looming over him and a full height Tallest glaring down.

“What did he say, exactly? Did he say he was missing some _fingers_?”

The word was more like a hiss then an actual word as Zim glared down at the adviser. This was just wonderful. It was one of the first reactions when Dib, no Blue, started to relapse. Oh well, at least this time he had a little forewarning.

“How did-did you know, my Tallest?”

Only the hum of closing doors answered the adviser as well as the swish of moving robes as the Tallest disappeared out of the room leaving the adviser to nervously asked, “Um… my Tallest?”

…

Tallest Blue sneaked a quick peak around the corner. Nope, Zim was nowhere in sight. True, Blue knew that Zim was looking for him. One of the advisors must have told him about his little freak-out earlier with his hands. Why did he say that? He had claws more than hands and he especially did not have five fingers. Blue pulled his antennae back in irritation. Did it really matter? Strange things like that happened to him all the time and as long as Zim didn’t find out, nobody questioned it… At least not around him that is.

The Tallest looked down the hall one more time… Nobody. With that, Blue started making his way down the hall on foot. True, is hover belts made virtually no noise, but he knew that small amount of sound they did make was enough to tell any Irken who was coming their way. Said Irken would probably tell Zim where he was; then Zim would find him, question him, and finally Blue would find himself with Zim’s hand up his pak. Yes, it was a vicious cycle. All this could be ignored, of course, if he could just remain unseen for a few hours and then everyone would forget about the whole hand thingy.

Blue’s feet moved quickly thanks to his long stride. The leader’s antennae twitched nervously as he made his way down the long hall and towards the small door located at the end of it. That door led to the service drones’ quarters, and since service drones weren’t allowed to speak to a Tallest without first being spoken to, no one was going to question why he was down there. True, it was slightly cramped, but it was an easy place to hide since there were so few lights down there.

Blue’s claws twitched as he neared the door and as soon as he placed his palm on the scanner to open the door, a voice called out to him, “My Tallest! My Tallest!”

Blue quickly felt a gloved hand place itself on his wrist, which shocked the leader. Blue quickly turned his head to see a tall invader, well short compared to him, but a head taller than half of his advisers. Blue tried to not growl as he looked over at the soldier. By the look of the equipment he wore, he was an interrogation officer of a high standing.

“What do you want?” Blue tried not to bark, but he kept the anger in his eyes as he pulled his hand off of the scanner, which the officer had so rudely shut.

“Sorry, my Tallest!” shouted the officer all of a sudden, doing a salute at the same time, “I did not wish to touch nor offend my Tallest. It’s just that that door leads to the service drone halls, and I didn’t want my Tallest filthying himself by accidentally entering those quarters.”

The red-eyed Irken swallowed and his antennae twitched. He waited for Blue to either nod his head in thanks for being saved from the service drone quarters, or to be thrown out of an air lock for touching his Tallest without permission. Of course, it was well known that Blue was a fair ruler and even soft hearted at times. Thus, he probably wouldn’t be thrown out of the airlocks… Unless Tallest Blue told Tallest Zim about it. So it still came down to if Tallest Blue was offended or not if he was going to live another day.

“Very good,” Blue tried not to growl and hiss that he wanted to go down there. He didn’t want to give his hiding place away now did he? “Now, be on your way, soldier.”

The Tallest gave a wave of his hand and glared down at the other Irken, noting the relief that quickly filled the shorter one’s eyes… yet the soldier did not leave. Instead, he pulled out of his salute and started to speak, “My Tallest. I am pleased to inform you that the rebel leader of Loogynook 7 has finally been captured and is waiting for your judgment on how he’s to be punished.”

Blue stared at the interrogation officer for a moment before he grumbled, “That’s Zim’s specialty. I’m rather busy right now trying to hi- find snacks. Now go ask Zim and let me be.”

The interrogation specialist swallowed. Tallest Blue was in a bad mood, which meant that Zim was in a _really_ bad mood. He’d rather deal with Blue right now then Zim when it came straight down to it. He had a greater percentage rate of living through Blue’s fury then Zim’s.

“Sorry, my Tallest. No one has seen Zim in over an hour. This matter needs attention now, my Tallest. We can’t continue forward with the rebel’s men until he is properly dealt with. I, for one, want those filthy creatures off the _Massive_ ,” said the Irken as he tightened up and waited for an answer.

Blue sighed. _Do I have a choice? Besides, if I’m busy working Zim won’t be able to get his hands on me._ “Fine , Officer …?”

“My name is Nave and I am one of the _Massive_ ’s Interrogation Officers. I’m honored that my Tallest even wishes to know my name.” Nave bowed once more and added, “The room is this way, Tallest Blue. I’ll have a service drone fetch those snacks you were looking for.”

Blue tried not to sigh as he followed his guide. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

It was a short walk, thankfully, and Nave quickly opened the door, stepping to the side in order to allow Blue in first. Tallest Blue was trying to think of a punishment. What kind of punishment would Zim give? One would think death, but after the first few rebels. Zim got bored with that punishment and soon started thinking up new punishments as if it were a game. The more creative, the more fun he’d have. The dimension of the Moose Room had never been so busy. Blue stepped into the room, still looking at the floor. Should he send him to the room with a moose, or perhaps the dimension of Disney? Yes, the dimension of Disney. Truly there was no worst, non-lethal punishment. Blue quickly lifted his head as he tried to pull off an evil smirk. He had to play the part after all.

Then it happened… Blue just couldn’t stop himself as he stared at the fuzzy creature. Not even a second was allowed to pass as he instinctively pointed a finger and yelled, “Oh my Irk! It’s big foot! Where’s my camera?”

Let’s just say that the silence was thick enough to stick a fork in and yell, ‘It’s done!’ Well, Blue knew he was _done_ for, because at that very moment he felt a hand lay itself on his shoulder in a calm but tense way. There was only one person tall enough on the Massive to put a hand on his shoulder. A sickness set in Blue’s gut and he resisted the urge to whimper, “Hello, Zim.”

“Blue… we need to talk,” hissed Zim into his counterpart’s antenna. The red Tallest then looked at the fuzzy beast and finally glared down at Nave, his eyes turned to slits.

His words were but a whisper and yet it sounded like a shout, “From this day forward, this species is _extinct_ … if you get my drift.”

The room was silent as all eyes fell onto the enraged being. Zim was cruel in his own ways, but never had he just simply stated _death_. He’d generally have some stupid plan to go with it like turning the entire species into rodents, and then releasing them  onto an enemy planet so that they would back up sewage drains which, in effect, caused the planet to drown in its own dookie! But no, it was nothing but a simple death sentence. Not even one slave.

“… As you wish my Tallest,” stated Nave as he saluted his superiors. The Irken couldn’t help but stare as he watched Zim practically drag his counterpart out of the room. Blue, of course, wasn’t looking at Zim. He was looking at the creature and its soft fur. Blue subconsciously ran his claws over the top of his head pressing down his antenna. He had a feeling something was supposed to be there… that something was missing and he couldn’t help but feel a sadness fall deep into his chest at the thought. Yet he still did not know why he was so sad.

 


	3. Let’s Make a Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader: Kira Kyuu

Sniffles filled the hull of the ship. It was an almost dying sound that sickened Zim to his very core, but he couldn’t shut it up. Dib was still in too fragile of a state for Irken sedatives and human sedatives could be deadly at such a time. A moaning scream echoed over the ship’s interior and then a soft metallic scrapping was announced to the Irken’s antennae. Zim soon found small blue optics staring up at him in utter distress.

“Master –”

“Why aren’t you watching Dib?!” growled Zim as he pressed a few more controls. Generally, autopilot was rather reliable, but with him being _dead_ , he couldn’t risk being seen. And a chase wasn’t the wisest of moves with Dib in such a bad state. The DNA transformation was just starting on the reconfiguration of the human organs, leaving the human in sheer misery as well as passing seizures as organs shut down so a new Irken one could take over. The process had slowed down remarkably as if the serum he had given Dib knew this was a delicate period and needed to be handled gracefully and with time… a lot slower than most of his external features like Dib’s hands. Irk, that had scared him to see Dib rip into himself like that. Ropes and restraints were a necessity for a while there.

“But… but he’s shaking master and he keeps… keeps asking,” whispered the robot as if it were a horrible secret. The small robot even threw his head from side to side as if looking for the spy.

“Asking what?” added Zim in a cautious tone. He wasn’t asking for water again, was he? If he even had a drop now, he’d surely die. Dib was just so frail that Zim was almost afraid to touch him.

The little robot looked at his owner with dewy eyes and then burst into tears. Zim still had no idea how a robot could manage to cry, but Gir pulled it off nicely.

“He keeps asking master and I keeps telling him noooooo! But he won’t stop! Please make him stop asking Master! I don’t want to kill Dib!”

… That was a surprise and Zim’s face gave it away completely as his mind scrambled for answers. Dib always acted so strong. He never gave up… EVER. He didn’t know the meaning of the word, and here he was begging for death, for an end. The Invader got up and forced himself to push autopilot which made Computer’s voice came to life.

“How bad is it?” asked Computer, his new AI for the ship/house. His little Voot Cruiser had had some quick modifications. It was no longer such a cramped ride and he’d just leave it at that.

“I’ll tell you in a minute, stare out of the window or something,” the tall Irken snapped as he ducked into the small quarters that were serving as a medical bay. His feet led him into a dim room that smelled like a salty, metallic concoction of blood and rot. Dib had been coughing up black chunks for days now. Sometimes there were trace amounts of dead organs in the soup of his regurgitated innards. It wasn’t a pretty picture, but at least Dib’s squeedlyspooch had started to form; thus he could do a quick job of getting rid of the _waste_ materials… or Dib’s  inferior human organs, if you wanted to be specific.

Zim stared at the sleeping being on a proto-bed against the wall. Dib was shaking again and his breath was more labored. Reluctantly, the invader turned on the lights; he knew Dib would probably whimper in pain due to his adjusting eyes, but he really needed to examine him.

“Dib?” said Zim softly as he sat on a stool which had sprung out of the floor. The transforming human didn’t make any indication that he knew the other was there… not until Zim tried to touch him, that is.

The human sat up with a blood curdling scream as he pulled his limb away, screeching, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me!”

The human shivered against the wall, clutching his green tinted arms which now had three clawed fingers each, his blankets hanging limply on his shoulders. Zim couldn’t help but stare in awe at how far the transformation was along. The human’s skin… Well, it didn’t have much human in it anymore. It had already turned a soft green and most of his body hair was all but missing. Speaking of hair, Dib’s head hair was falling out as well. The Irken had never taken into account what the human would look like without hair. He wouldn’t say it aloud, no matter how badly he wanted to, but Dib’s head looked even larger.

Dib noticed the Irken’s assessing stare and quickly threw one of his medical blankets at the alien to stop him from staring. What? It was all he had to throw. After his first freak out the invader had bound his hands, stripped him of anything he could hurt himself with (or throw), and locked him in a small room with Gir, of all things. He was in pain, he was sick, hot and cold all over, his hair was falling out, his teeth ached, and he was coughing up his lungs. It was hell. Not to mention he was finding it harder and harder to sleep. His mind just wouldn’t let him shut down, almost like he wasn’t in need of sleep anymore. And then there was the knowledge that his family was _dead_. Yes, they weren’t the best family in the world, but they were his! Nobody else’s! And now he had nothing. He wanted to cry so badly, but he found out the hard way what would happen if he started to cry. It was best just not to.

Dib swallowed, feeling something new slide down his throat that wasn’t salvia. His mind was haunting him with _why’s_. If one question would just be answered, he might be able to find some rest.

The human slowly pulled his legs into his chest and tried not to hiss in pain as he buried his head between the crook in his knees. “Why?”

“Why?” replied Zim, his antennae perking up. This was the first calm thing Dib had said to him since he saw what he was becoming. Mostly he’d curse Zim and then draw into himself whimpering in a dull agony. The Irken might have sighed in relief, but resisted. So Dib’s mind wasn’t gone, just hiding. If Dib’s mind was to disappear there would sadly be no use in keeping him.

“Yes? Why?!” barked Dib as he tried to remain somewhat calm. “Why have you done this to me!? You won! There is no need to torture me anymore. I would have been happy dying, Zim!”

The human was panting after his short outburst and slowly drew his staggering limbs back into himself as he grumbled. “You could at least tell me why you’re doing this to me, Zim.”

The invader smirked and leaned forward so he was a few inches from Dib’s face. He wanted the once human to get the point as he asked, “Dib, you’re very smart, aren’t you?”

The human glared at him and shoved him away slightly to get the Irken out of his breathing space, not that he could really breathe anyway right now. “You already knew that. All the times I’ve interrupted your plans for world domination should have told you that.”

Zim resisted the urge to rub in Dib’s last failure with the Armada and continued, “And your stature is extremely tall even for a human. It’s almost equal to my own height.”

“Yes, I am tall, Mr. Obvious. You know what my skin color is too? It’s peach. Oh wait, it isn’t anymore,” hissed Dib acerbically.

Zim pulled his antennae back. He knew this was sarcasm, but no matter how hard he tried he never quite understood it and so ignored the comment, “All for the better. I certainly can’t execute my plan without notice if a human is lagging behind me.”

“As if I’d follow you. I’d be ripping you to shreds right now if I had the strength.”

Zim leaned back on his stool as a back suddenly appeared for it. The Irken pretended to be looking at his nails, as if showing disinterest as he spoke. He had learned a few tricks from the earthling females… deceptive creatures, really, when it came to playing with the mind. The right combination of words and physical movements could get you almost anything.

“I’m sure you would… but then you would never get your revenge,” he said in an uninterested tone. “Shame really. With me dead you’d be stuck floating in space with nothing for company, but your own thoughts… your thoughts on how you failed Earth, for example.”

Dib leaned forward and was about to scream in protest, but Zim slapped his hand over the half-Irken’s mouth and continued, squeezing his nails into the flesh for emphasis on silence.

“Or how all the humans are slowly going extinct, because you weren’t strong enough to save them. And then there’s the thought that somewhere else in the universe the beings that have raped your Earth, so that it can bear nothing but oh-so-chocolaty goodness, are happy and healthy and safe while the last of your people are worked to death.”

The human had stopped struggling against the hand and was listening with this haunted look in his eyes, a broken look, but he seemed to still be listening so it wasn’t completely hopeless. Zim could live with that.

“But, Dib,” drawled Zim as he loosened his grip, “What if you could have revenge? What if you could, per say, get rid of the Tallest, hm? Revenge is a dish sweeter than all other emotions, no? ”

Zim removed his hand and stood up. The human had this glazed look in his eyes now. He was obviously thinking.

“I leave you to yourself, Dib. Think over what I’ve told you. I’m sure you’ll agree with my actions soon enough,” said the invader with a straight stance, giving one more glance at the other before he left without another word.

…

Days were usually dragging and painful, not that Dib knew the time, but now at least his mind wasn’t in torture. His fingers twitched for the hundredth time that day at the thought of the dead Tallest; watching their poor excuse for blood pool all over the floor with him being bathed in it as he dissected their paks. He held onto that image with a truly insane smile, and for the first time in a long time he was able to fall asleep. He couldn’t recall if he dreamed, but he was sure that if he had he would have been dreaming of killing the Tallest. Not Earth and its valleys, but killing the Tallest.

…

The door oozed open silently and Zim peeked in. Dib had been sleeping for two human Earth days and hadn’t shown any signs of waking anytime soon. This of course surprised Zim. Dib was far enough in his Irken stages that he was probably no longer in need of sleep, yet here he was, dozing quietly and twitching his Irken fingers. He seemed angry, yet happy. It was easy to conclude that Dib was dreaming. Irkens didn’t dream so it was a questionable thing really. How was a human’s mind able to function when it was technically offline? Not only would it create pictures and emotions, there were sometimes coherent thoughts occurring in dreams, apparently. It was an interesting thought, especially since no other recorded species in the universe dreamed. It was a shame he never took time to investigate.

Zim was suddenly dragged from his thoughts when a small whimper was born from the figure under the sheets and Dib rolled over, careful to not put any weight on his belly.

The Irken grinned. “About time.”

Dull, almost white eyes opened and with a soft whine the sleeping figure sat up facing the wall; sheets mindfully hanging on his shoulders. “Morning, Zim.”

“It’s not morning, Dib, but since you’re finally awake do you want me to continue with my proposition?”

The sheets shift for a moment and Dib pulled his feet out so they hanged off the edge of the recovery table. He stared at his three black-clawed toes for a moment. He dragged his head up lazily and whispered, “I had a dream, Zim, and in that dream I killed the Tallest.”

The human said no more, so Zim smiled, his words gloating, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ to hearing me out.”

The Irken then waved his hand and a chair sprung from the metal tiles in the floor, the invader sitting down.

“I’ll be quick and to the point since I know a growing boy needs his rest,” quipped Zim, ignoring Dib's growl. “You and I are going to play a little game, Dib. We’re going to play dress up.”

Dib rose what was left of his brow, his words irritated, “I thought you said you were going to get straight to the point?”

Zim’s smile disappeared and he rubbed the back of his head, grumbling, “So I did… Oh, humor me! Once you look a little more Irken we can easily infiltrate the advisers' ranks.”

Dib sneered, but quickly closed his mouth when he saw Zim smiling at his newly developing teeth. His words were tired, “I’m rather sure you could have done that on your own, Zim. So, why drag me along?”

“Well… it’s my pak,” stated the invader with distaste, which caused Dib to perk up his head slightly. He didn’t know much about paks except for the fact that Zim had always been overly protective of his. In fact, he had never been able to get his hand on it or get a proper scan. As far as he was concerned, the only purpose of the pak was to be a technological Swiss Army Knife of sorts. It had everything an invading Irken needed apparently.

Zim swallowed as if embarrassed, his words soft, “Well… you know that time that huge Irken came and snatched me out of the class room?”

Dib tried not to laugh as he watched Zim start to twitch in his seat and fiddle with his fingers. He was embarrassed, and the human took no time in abusing that fact as he joked, “What? Was that your dad and he came to give you a time out of something, Zim? You never told me who exactly that was or where you disappeared to for a month.”

The invader’s eyes became slits. He liked the mostly docile sick Dib, but the original Dib was starting to peek through again. Regardless of the treatment he'd likely receive, he answered quickly, “No … hewasmybossatafastfoodrestaurant .”

Dib’s grin grew all the larger, and he no longer minded the fact that his teeth were sharp. In fact, the feel of his human tongue sliding over them was enthroning, and he half wished he had a mirror to look at them properly. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Zim that.

“What was that? You know my ears haven’t quite fallen off yet so I do believe you’re mumbling,” joked Dib as he leaned forward on his arms and stuck his smiling mug into Zim’s face. The other Irken’s face contorted with distaste and he leaned back so Dib couldn’t get any closer.

“No,” hissed the invader as he pushed Dib’s head back out of his personal bubble. “His name was Sizz-Lorr and he was my… boss.”

“Your boss?” Dib was a bit put out by the answer and couldn’t help but slump back away from the other being, his smile gone. “But wait… I thought your bosses were the Tallest?”

“Well, they are, but he’s my boss at my job,” sighed Zim. He couldn’t believe he was going to say this.

“Your boss? But you’re an invader. You can’t have a normal boss.”

Zim sighed, cringing as he admitted, “I don’t know how much of the hail you caught when the Tallest were talking to me on Earth.”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he stalled. He really didn’t want to enrage the halfling with memories of his defeat, but it was the easiest way to explain.

“You were kind of out of it so I doubt you heard the fine details.”

“Yeah, I remember the fine details,” growled the half-Irken irritably, his teeth bearing in an angry manner like a rabid dog. “I remember bleeding like a stuffed goat all over the floor and you calling your _precious_ leaders like a good dog. You know I think it’s kind of funny that they abandoned you. Its- ”

Dib stopped the moment he saw the Irken’s antennae drop. Something deep inside him told him to stop… his Irken side told him to stop, but his human half was bitter, so he found himself biting his own tongue to keep the anger in. He needed Zim right now… he needed his revenge. Dib twitched and yelped as blood started to drip down the side of his mouth. Maybe he shouldn’t have bit down.

Zim’s antennae quickly perked up. It smelled metallic, like Irken blood. Dib was getting closer and closer to his due date. He had to convince Dib _now_ before his transformation was complete. His human organs would last a little bit longer, but not forever.

Beside himself, Zim jumped off his chair and slowly made his way to one of the walls. He murmured to it softly and a drawer popped out of the wall. Dib twitched when Zim walked back to him and handed over a soft material to dab the wound with. The bleeding stopped almost immediately.

“Good,” said Zim, having wandered over and back from a different wall-drawer. “Now put this in your mouth.”

Dib rolled his eyes and reached for the little metal orb, trying to ignore the fact that his and Zim’s hands were almost alike now. It sickened him to think too much on it, so he just pushed that fact to the back of his mind as he picked up the little ball between his fingers, only to drop it with a squeak as he slid farther back onto his bed. The human stared at the little ball as it wiggled about for a moment on his sheets only to fall back into its original form.

His words were almost a screech, “Y-you’re trying to kill me! I knew it!”

Zim rolled his eyes, only to curse himself for it… _Irk, another human characteristic_.

“I almost forgot you were so paranoid. After all the work I’ve put into you, why would I kill you now?”

Dib’s eye’s shifted in a paranoid manner. “Then why did it move? What is it for, for that matter?”

The Irken resisted the urge to laugh at the stupidity of the question only to stop himself… to an Irken it would have been a stupid question, because almost every Irken had to use it at least once. But then he remembered, despite the way Dib looked, he wasn’t Irken.

“Why, it keeps you from damaging your mouth,” he stated simply as he picked it out of the sheets.

The halfling raised a brow and Zim sighed as he reminded himself: _not Irken, not Irken_.

“Smeets, Irken babies, are born with their teeth and like human children their motor skills are not perfect, better, but not perfect,” Zim explained as if Dib was a smeetling. “So basically, these are like human braces and they make sure you won’t bleed yourself to death by biting down on your own tongue.”

Dib resisted the urge to slam his head against a wall. Braces? Braces! After all the indignities he had been forced to live through in his short life, Zim was going to try and push that on him? The human rubbed his temples as he growled, “That’s not necessary, Zim. I bit my tongue on purpose. Now continue with your pak thing. What’s the issue with it?”

Zim narrowed his eyes and pushed the object a little closer towards the other. He was _not_ going to have his plans go up in smoke just because Dib drowned in his own blood one night dreaming about filthy human hamburgers. “Basically, my pak says that I’m a food drone and that I must work as one, nothing else. Now, take it and put it in  your mouth.”

Dib turned his nose up. True, he could no longer smell out of it, but it still had its uses. “So, as a food drone, you don’t have adviser’s rights to, let’s say… get in the Tallest’s private quarters? And, no.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean, and yes, you are going to take it,” growled Zim as he pushed the item a little nearer to his past foe’s face.

“So, what are we going to do? I doubt those pak things are easily compromised since you’re here talking about it and haven’t done it to yourself yet. No.”

“They’re very delicate. I could die if I crossed the wrong wires, and yes, you will put it in your mouth! Stop acting like a smeetling!” growled Zim as he rose from his chair, stood up, and leaned on the bed, pushing the item nearer to Dib’s face.

Dib merely turned his cheek and continued, ignoring the round item that was mere inches from his cheek and the hand holding it.

“That’s very interesting to learn. If I were you Zim, I’d watch my back, literally. Now what’s the plan to rid yourself of this little problem?” stated Dib in a bored tone as he leaned into one of his hands staring at the little orb, but not touching it. The human tried not to smile as a little game entered his head. He was too sick to properly torture Zim for doing this to him, so he’d just irritate the living crap out of him. The human frowned and couldn’t help but note Zim’s smile as he reached for the little silver orb, but before he even picked it up, he used his forefinger to flick it. Zim stared at him with shock for a moment, and then growled as he tramp towards the direction the little orb had flown in.

“So, are we going to steal someone else’s pak or are we going to hack into the computers or…?”

The tall Irken growled and got on his hands and knees to search under some machinery. He grunted once or twice until he hit his head and came up cursing, holding the orb. He glared at it with one dewy eye before glaring up at the human on the cot. Dib smiled, crossed his legs, and leaned down, awaiting an answer.

“Well, all those are ‘no’s, Dib-worm, because advisers are mostly on the _Massive_ , the Control Brains are on the _Massive_ , and Irk, and you are going to put this in your mouth!”

A screech filled the room as Zim crawled across the room with the speed of a rabid beast and grabbed the mocking human by the collar of his baggy white shirt. If he was well enough to mock him, Dib was well enough to take a little roughhousing.

With a rather loud thud, the human was dragged to the floor and into a headlock, kicking his bare feet as Zim struggled to subdue him. There was much cursing on the human’s part until the Irken managed to get a decent headlock, wearing the human out. “I believe we’ve come to an agreement, Dib.”

“I’m not putting that thing in my mouth. It’s been on the floor!” hissed Dib as he pursed his lips together only to have to choke on his own hiss as he nipped his tongue again. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Zim that, and sweet Nessy, his blood tasted like a bucket of salty rusted iron.

Zim sighed, it was like dealing with a smeetling. He lifted up his free hand and dipped the round object into a cup that had just appeared out of the wall along with a tray of food. The Irken then wiped it on his uniform and once again tried to force the other to put it in his mouth.

“No,” hissed Dib as he tried to keep some of his dignity, “That was poison. You’re trying to kill mmmmh!”

Zim smiled as he stuffed the thing into his Dib’s mouth, mid word.

“I used to think your big mouth was irritating, but it seems it’s not in some cases,” Zim mocked as he let the human go so he could hiss and wiggle like a worm on a hook as the little orb went to work. “Another use of your big mouth is that I’m fairly confident that you have better people skills then I do.”

After gagging for a few times, Dib was able to remove his clawed hand from his mouth, wince once or twice as the wiggling came to a halt and tightened around his teeth.

“You’re a bastard, Zim,” murmured the human as he wiped some spittle from his mouth and slowly rose to his feet, struggling for balance. After a moment or two, he was able to stand without the help of the bed. It felt strange on these legs. They were so thin, yet they felt sturdy.

The human wiped his mouth again and glared at Zim whom had opened a closet of some sort and was silently digging through it in the shadows. “What exactly do you mean by ‘people skills’?”

Zim peered over his shoulder to glance at Dib before returning to his search. “The Voritans.”

“Is that an illness?” Dib swallowed and slowly picked up a polished metal tool. He bared his teeth and couldn’t help but howl in agony and fall to his knees in a drama queen fashion. “Great, as if I wasn’t enough of a freak already. I look like I ate the Tinman.”

“Quit whining. You’ve already bitten yourself twice today so just be thankful.” Dib glared at him, but said nothing as the invader continued in his rant. “The Voritans are a technologically advanced race. In fact, they designed the _Massive_ , the Tallest’s ship, and then we imprisoned their race.”

“Oh, that was friendly,” stated Dib in a drawl as he picked up a metallic saw and started looking at his face again. So this was him, huh? All of his hair was gone and it was easy to see the two developing antennae peaking up an inch or two from his scalp. He could hear out of them and… smell. It was weak and barely noticeable, but his nose hadn’t worked in days and his ears had this echoing sound to them, by morning both would probably be gone just like his teeth. His skin was also a soft pale green now too; a shade or two paler than Zim’s. The only things that hadn’t changed much were his eyes. Too bad they looked like the eyes of a dead man, a misty white. He was going to be a dead man soon, wasn’t he? There was no way he was going to be able to survive this way, but he’d try for the Earthlings. He’d hold out for them, and then he’d let go.

“That is why they won’t listen to me… I am an Irken. You, on the other hand, will never be a true Irken. So they’ll listen to you over me,” stated Zim as he walked back over to the closet he had been digging through earlier.

Dib rubbed his cheek once more and tried not to wince as pain shot through his chest while his back ached as if wanting something.

“What exactly do I tell them?”

“Well,” came Zim’s muffled voice, “You tell them the truth. You want to kill the Tallest for destroying your planet and that I want to kill them for trying to kill me. I’m sure they’ll relate, and to do so we’ll need their help. They’ll have to rewrite my pak to state that I’m an adviser and some other stuff. After that, the rest is simple. Every single Irken is extremely loyal to the Tallest so they don’t expect treachery from the inside. It will be easy to poison their snacks or lace their sheets with acid or something.”

“And that’s all?” added Dib in a dry tone; Zim’s plans were never that simple. There was something else he was keeping from him and he wasn’t willing to share, but Dib would just hold his tongue for now. The human race was his number one priority. Zim had promised and he didn’t seem like he was going to go back on his word.

“Yes… well, there is also this.” Zim pulled out a uniform that looked almost identical to his though it had a high neck. He had a huge grin on his green face regardless.

“I am not wearing that,” hissed Dib.

“Well, not today you’re not, but since planet Dirt is an Irken planet, it will attract the least amount of attention, which is a good thing since an Irken without a pak is already impossible enough,” added the Irken as he tried to keep the worried tone out of his voice. There was another reason he was going to planet Dirt besides rewriting his pak… and it had to be done soon.

Dib rolled his eyes, too tired to fight about it.

“Good. Now let me get you some Irken food so you can try those new teeth out. We’ll be to planet Dirt in a two days and I need you as strong as possible.”

“Why?” Dib asked worriedly as he tried to shake off an exhausted feeling that was creeping up on him. “Are Voritans tall, huge, spiky, and dangerous?”

Zim merely laughed.

...

Dib wanted to throw up what little of the Irken food he had been able to keep down. Perhaps it was because he looked just like them in this uniform. The only thing that kept him from falling into a nervous tantrum were his still white eyes, and the fact that he didn’t have one of those horrible paks. He didn't need the weight of one right now anyway. He was already feeling terrible with his breathlessness and heavy limbs. So much so that he probably couldn’t stop Zim from making him wear a pak anyway.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” grumbled Dib as he slipped on his last boot.

“We are not in Rome silly huma- I mean Dib. We’re on planet Dirt,” added the invader as opened the hatch to the outside.

“I kind of figured that out with the shaking of the hull when we came through the atmosphere,” the human bit out sarcastically. Just because he was feeling extra crappy today didn’t mean he was going to let Zim walk all over him.

Moments later Dib followed Zim soundlessly down the street trying not to note just how dust encrusted everything from the buildings to the people themselves. No wonder they called it planet Dirt. And it was probably a perfect place for illegal pak encoders to hide, no?

They turned another corner and Dib felt another shot of pain in his chest. He was hoping this wasn’t going to take long. He felt faintish, but he’d rather keep that to himself. Zim would probably say something quirky like, ‘Irkens don’t have weaknesses and therefore don’t feel pain’ or something equally irritating. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his chest and the human found himself leaning against a wall, gasping. Zim didn’t seem to notice and kept walking as Dib leaned against the wall heavily gasping for even the smallest of breaths. Why couldn’t he breathe and why was he becoming light headed. Zim had told him there was air on this planet!

Zim’s antennae twitched in a nervous way as he kept a stern gaze out for the Voritan he had contacted shortly after administering the Irken serum to Dib. The other was entranced by the idea of Dib and by the promise of ‘payment’ he had promised if his plan succeeded.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here. Cutting it a little short, aren’t you?”

The Irken nearly jumped out of his pak when a voice came from the area at his feet. It always irked him how he missed things like short people now that he was tall, but at least it was his Voritan and not an Irken that had recognized him.

“Oh, there you are. Zim has been looking for you. Do you have the item?”

The Voritan nodded not taking his eyes off if Dib who was grasping his chest and shaking. “He’s not going to last much longer without a pak…

_pak..._

_pak..._

“… pak?”

Blue beadily opened one of his eyes and lazily looked up. A pair of red eyes stared down at him, heavy with worry.

“Tallest Blue?” whispered the adviser, daringly poking the taller being to see if he was awake.

Blue groaned and slung his thick wrist over his eyes to keep the light out.

“What is it, Pixen?” his voice was barely a whisper.

The adviser pulled his antennae up, glad that Blue had finally answered. It had been two days since Zim had dragged Tallest Blue away to one of the science labs. He later emerged with a semi-conscious Blue draped over his shoulder and pissed as hell. The adviser had been with Blue since then, trying to ask him questions… like who this Gaz was? He had been mumbling about them a few hours ago. Nonetheless, with his leader looking so pained, it could wait.

“I said, my Tallest, would you would like me to call a medical drone to look at your pak? Soothe Zim’s _repairs_ perhaps?”

A soft chuckle escaped the leader as he sat up with a grunt, “You mean to tell me you think Zim couldn’t do pak repairs if his life depended on it?”

The adviser pulled away from the Tallest's berth with a look of fear. He was going to be shot out of an air lock, wasn't he?!

“I-I didn’t mean to-too. I mean no! He’s great at repairs. Tallest Zim is one of the best pak repairers I’ve ever seen!”

Blue laughed a little harder ignoring the ache in his pak. Generally, it wasn’t his style to pick on his servants, mostly because they never understood his sense of humor. In fact, no one did except Zim. He’d never laugh, but his fellow Tallest could always read Blue’s sarcasm. The taller Irken stopped his giggling and cleared his throat, soothing the other, “It was a joke… Zim knows his stuff, but he’s not very delicate about it.”

Pixen pulled his antennae back and stared at his leader in question. Joking hadn’t even really been a word in the Irken vocabulary until Blue took his place of power next to Zim. In fact, there were a lot of things Blue brought forth. Curiosity was one of the top ones as well as a morbid paranoia when in enemy territory. Then, there were his dreams. No one dared speak of it out loud unless they were in the servant’s corridors, because an adviser had been daring enough to ask Zim once Blue’s origins… Well, no one ever saw him again. So no one dared ask or question Blue’s strange attributes anymore. His pak had been encrypted as an adviser before he took power, so no Irken questioned where he was from, but all the advisers agreed: Blue never mentioned his origins because he probably didn’t know, and Zim never mentioned it because he did know.

“Is that a yes, my Tallest?”

“Sure. I have stuff to do in the science department with a new alien species an Invader found. I can’t spend a week in bed now, can I?” sniffed Blue as he rubbed his lower back, hissing slightly. He just could never explain it… there was just something about alien species that intrigued him. He had a want, no, a _need_ , to dissect them and see how they worked. If they were intelligent he at least pitied them enough to put them out of their misery before he started cutting.

“Wonderful. Just a moment,” said Pixen as he got off his knees from the cucumber shaped bed and disappeared.

Blue sighed and rubbed his head, feeling an antennae run between his fingers. It was always a strange sensation and he was very impartial to letting anyone touch them. It was like they didn’t belong and that he was supposed to remember why they didn’t. A pain pressed behind Blue’s eyes and he took a shuddering breath so it would disappear, forgetting his thoughts. This pain always happened after Zim would dive into his pak. He had told Blue that only defects dreamed and that if anyone found out he dreamed he’d be considered a defect. So, Zim would rummage through his pak, deleting possible defect codes every once in a while. The Irken civilization could not have a defective leader so he’d live with the pain and the lost feeling that seemed to come with it. He was an Irken leader and as such he had to be strong.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say. Hope you enjoyed.


	4. An Eye in a Jar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader: Kira Kyuu

Okay, maybe it was true that the Massive was per say… the size of a small planet, but that fact really didn’t concern Zim’s antennae. They still picked up on it. That sentence he had thought he’d never hear again.

‘ _It’s big foot_!’

Oh, Irk! It had never gotten this bad, this quickly. True, Blue dreamed all the time, which strangely represented memories of his past life, but never had he reacted on one. Nowadays, it was more like he was remembering then dreaming. A bad sign for Zim. 

It wasn’t that he was worried about pieces of Dib slipping through, because he would have never turned the human in the first place if there wasn’t something he liked about the human. After all, Dib was everything an Irken invader should have been. He was cunning and knew how to talk himself out of a corner; was a genius in most studies of mechanics as well as the simplicity of dissection; and he also had this sense of honor, unafraid to take up arms for what he believed to be right. Zim would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that Dib had unknowingly taught him how to be a better invader. It was a slow and painful process, but with each failure Zim was forced to rethink his tactics. So, slowly, he started to become more cunning in achieving his goal of global conquest.

Privately, a part of Zim wanted Dib back. He longed for his cunning attributes and ostentatious mind, but if there was one thing his time on Earth taught him, a being couldn’t have everything they wanted. It was a conflict of ideals when it came to Dib and him. So to keep his Dib, he had to bury away his memories. He was going to keep his trophy, even if it had cracks in it. Dib, no, Blue, would not be lost. Blue was the only thing that understood Zim and he _wasn’t_ going to lose that. He had been an outcast for so long, yet his own enemy had offered him a hand in his most dire of moments. This is something he would never forget.

Dib was his _prize_ and he had to protect it… even if he had to protect him from himself.

The Tallest stopped in his race down the halls of the Massive, noting how his robes shifted softly from the loss of momentum. He stared forward for a moment before looking down at an adviser, which had been jogging to keep up, his mind churning up new ideas as he spoke,“ Zim has thought long and hard. I will be going to the planet Vort to speak with a certain Voritan I met once, but before I leave I want to talk to Commander Sizz-Lorr.”

…

It was pooling everywhere like a faucet, dripping with a little splat as the blood oozed over the edge of the dissection table. Blue paid the blood no mind as he slowly plunged his gloved hands into his newest “toy”. It had caught him by surprise, really.

Before the whole pak dilemma, Blue had been sitting silently next to Zim as the more active leader paced back and forth in utter excitement at an invader’s discovery of some rare resources on the Empire’s newest planet. Blue had resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He really could have cared less about the secret ingredient to nacho sauce. Yet, he sat in his Tallest’s chair pretending to be fascinated with the conquering of this planet. However, between Zim’s victory dance and Invader Exon’s victory speech, he noticed something growling and hissing in the background of the hail as it was tugged onto a ship.

Blue couldn’t stop himself once he got a good look at it. He actually stood up, pushed Zim to the side, and pointed at the invader, stating simply, “Bring me the creature with the brown eyes.”

It had been silent for a moment, the invader looking at his Tallest with wide eyes. It wasn’t that he was angry or shocked about being interrupted during his speech. It was that it was _Tallest Blue_ who had done it. It wasn’t a hidden secret among the invaders: it was one thing to get Tallest Zim excited about an invasion, but to get Tallest Blue generally excited. Well, it was unheard of and considered a great honor.

Exon nearly fainted, yet still managed to race over to the executioner ship and drag the beast to the vid-screen so Blue could examine it.

It was one thing to see one of Blue’s stereotypical smiles meant to encourage his troops; it was another thing to see him smile with pure approval.

And that was how he got his current “toy”. True, when he had seen it, it had been alive. Now it was currently deceased, its one dazzling eye just lifeless looking at him. In all honesty, the beast wasn’t that uniquely special from any other beast of its class. In fact, it was rather stupid. Its species hadn’t even developed the first step in creating a written text, but there was that _eye_.

The eye had the normal structure for a camera-type eye with its usual three layers: the sclera, the choroid, and the retina, but that wasn’t what interested him. It was the iris. It was a haunting brown color. It captured him somehow, like he had always known this hue. It was as if the color had once been his and a small part of him wanted to own it again.

Blue stopped cutting into the creature, his eyes getting wide behind his goggles. Now where did that thought come from? He had always had blue eyes, hadn’t he?

“Tallest Blue?” inquired a shorter Irken who was across the other side of the table, his pak legs extend so he was able to observe the specimen on it.

The taller Irken snapped out of his thoughts only to notice that he had been still for the past minute, just staring at that eye and not the heart like organ in his hands. He slowly turned to his assistant, pulling his goggles up, noting with a strange satisfaction that the creature’s blood was now dripping down the goggle and down his green cheek.

“What is it, Borit?”

Borit’s slanted pink eyes twitch slightly at the sight of that disgusting goo even touching his Tallest’s body. He didn’t understand why his Tallest degraded himself to such pitiful research. He should be enjoying snacks like Tallest Purple and Red use too, or at least be enjoying the show the invaders put on when conquering a planet. Zim seemed to get his enjoyment that way, so why didn’t Tallest Blue?

The Head Researcher sighed. He didn’t understand his Tallest at all, but if Tallest Blue wanted to chop up this meaningless being instead of eating snacks, who was he to stop him? Well, he could mention a slight complaint to Zim that Blue had been acting funny during the dissection and that would certainly stop this whole dissection obsession, probably.

The two Tallest would doubtlessly get into a huge fight about it though.

The smaller Irken stiffened physically at the thought.

A fight would be, well, interesting was probably the best word for it, but it would certainly end badly. It wasn’t like the two didn’t have strange little scrimmages from time to time when they’d have these outlandish yelling fights. Unfortunately, they sometimes led to fistfights. Now, no one, himself included, would ever forget the first fistfight the two leaders had gotten into.

It had been a normal day when the two started a disagreement about Tallest Blue sneaking off in one of his hand-made Voot Cruisers without at least a wing guard. Zim made the mistake of telling Blue to destroy his Voot Cruisers and pay attention to more important things, like snacks. Blue had been quiet for a moment and everyone thought he had given in to his co-leader’s demands, so much so that Zim himself started to gloat. It was then that all hell broke loose. Blue physically threw himself at the other in a flying mixture of pak legs, fists, and Tallest robes. It took at least twenty minutes for the advisers and few taller guards to pull the two apart. The strange thing was, though, when they were sitting there panting and bleeding, the two then began to laugh.

Well, to say the least, it ended well, but the medical drones weren’t very happy.

A sigh escaped the Head Researcher as he looked at his Tallest Blue. The taller Irken seemed to be haunted by that eye, again. Oh well, maybe it was true that Blue was odd, but one thing was for sure, there wouldn’t be an Empire left if just Zim was ruling. The small Irken grinned. Now that was a day he’d never forget when Zim became a Tallest. He was sure they were all going to die, but then there was Blue. He just stepped up as if he had been _made_ to balance out Zim’s erratic behavior, despite the strangeness that accompanied him.

Borit resisted the urge to sigh again, in relief. Thank Irk for little favors. And with that thought complete, the Irken pulled out a rag and made his pak legs stretch to their limits. It was with great care that he wiped the blood from his treasured Tallest. Blue automatically jumped away from the table with a startled hiccup. The Head Researcher wasn’t surprised by his leader’s reaction at all. Blue had always been wary about being touched, even for nice things like massages. He just didn’t want to be touched. It was as if he was embarrassed. Not a Tallest trait at all. Not that anyone would admit it.

“Forgive me, my Tallest. We have not yet examined the creature’s blood. It might have poison in it.”

Blue looked at his soldier, and then meekly ran a clawed hand down his cheek. It always surprised him that Irkens were so loyal to him, that they saw him, and that he was no longer invisible. In fact, he was the object of attention. The Tallest was about to rub his tongue over his teeth as a nervous reaction, but somehow managed to stop the response. He had mangled his tongue enough time to know better, but a part of him still wanted to do it as if his teeth weren’t sharp as blades. But Irk knows that if he did, Zim and the med drones would have a slight hissy fit and make him put on those, guh, teeth guards. No way! Not again! He had had them forcibly put on twice already by his co-Tallest and he’d be Irked if he didn’t go down with a fight the next time.

Borit tried not to smirk as his Tallest hurriedly put his hand over his mouth. He recalled the Chief Medical Drone mentioning his Tallest’s “bad habit” and his occasional need for teeth guards. Perhaps his Tallest needed something to barter his time with.

“My Tallest,” cooed the Head Researcher. “Perhaps you would like this as something to distract your troubled mind?”

Blue drew his gaze away from the haunting eye of the deceased creature and looked at his Head Researcher, removing his hand from his mouth. He stared at the Irken and the glimmering object in his hand, yet, despite his slight confusion, he took it into hand, murmuring, “It’s merely a small containment jar.”

“Exactly.”

…

Blue sat in his Tallest’s chair in the control room of the Massive. He had one arm propped on the armrest with his chin leaning into his palm. He had been admiring _it_ as he turned _it_ around in his other hand. The eye didn’t even shift away from him within its liquid prison. The brown iris just continued to stare at him as if it was watching him with just as much curiosity as he was watching it. He couldn’t look away. The strange organ seemed to be whispering things to him and he wanted to listen. It was like it saw a part of him that he could not.

“And they call me cruel. At least I don’t carry souvenirs around.”

Blue didn’t even twitch as Zim snickered and jumped over the back of his chair, landing in the seat with an ungraceful flop. The co-Tallest then proceeded by leaning over the arm of his own chair and grinning at the “toy”. The smile quickly faded though when Blue didn’t start paying attention to the once-invader. Zim wasted no time in grabbing for the object, his fingers only gracing air.

Zim huffed and Blue laughed dryly as he continued to admire his toy, the blue Irken murmuring, “If you wanted my attention, you could just ask for it, Zim.”

“Whatever, Zim doesn’t need your attention,” added the red Tallest as he slumped into his chair, moping. This went on for about two awkward minutes before Zim lunged for it again. He merely grabbed for air once more.

Blue grinned at his counterpart and quickly buried the small jar in his robes, snapping his wrists in a mocking manner before he slouched back down, looking forward as if he was entertained by the view of empty space.

After a moment of the childish game of glare-and-grin, Zim growled, “Give me.”

Blue raised an eye as if in question, a mocking smile on his face, “Whatever do you mean, Zim?”

Zim felt a flame burst to life in his chest. This was the same passionate fire Dib and he shared when they had fought over the future of Earth. True, they no longer fought as if their lives depended on success or failure, but they still had their bouts of childish banter and brawls. It seemed they were both in need of a quick game.

That was fine with Zim.

“You know exactly what will happen. Give to Zim or suffer the consequences,” the red being demanded as he put forth a clawed hand, waiting patiently with a sickening smirk on his face.

Blue huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Try me, because I’m not going to give it to you.”

Zim’s smile grew. _Just like the old days._ And just like that, Zim jumped over the expanse of the two chairs. A collection of royal robes flew through the air as the two Tallest began a slightly violent game of gimme, leaving the control room in a slight panic.

The advisers were all sighing as they readied the mild antiseptic.

A cry rang through the room as Zim suddenly went flying into the pilots’ den, sending the pilots in a mild retreat to not get squished. Blue merely grinned, wiping spittle from his mouth as he sat up. A growl quickly escaped the expanse behind the control panel of pilots’ den though. Then, without much warning, the retired invader leapt onto the control panel in a crouching stance, an evil grin on his face.

“Zim will have it.”

Dib jumped to his feet, brushing imaginary dust off of his chest, his words slightly irritated, “Please, you don’t even want it. It’s just an eye.”

“Then give it to Zi-me, if it is so unimportant.”

“Never,” came the word, as if he had said it a thousand times before. Then, a war cry rang from the two beings again and the two were biting and clawing like two children fighting over a toy.

There was a soft whish of opening doors, completely unnoticed by all the viewers of the brawl and the brawlers themselves, and in stepped a hulking figure with a mountain like stance. With a sigh, the newcomer wandered over to the worried adviser s who were wincing and cringing at every bite and kick the Tallest were giving each other.

“Fighting again,” grumbled Commander Sizz-Lorr as he crossed his arms over his puffed out chest, allowing the light to glare off his military badges, “They never seem to tire do they, Pixen?”

Pixen jumped slightly and then suddenly perked up his antennae. It was Sizz-Lorr: a nobody who had somehow found favor in none other than Tallest Zim. Apparently, the large Irken had once been an invader who had been turned into a fry cook on planet Foodcourtia after failing to conquer a planet in a set time limit. He had been a reject, a mockery of the populace, much like Zim had been, but there was something else there… something no one was going tell. Pixen didn’t know how to feel about the new Commander, but one thing was for certain: Zim, alone, probably had more secrets then Tallest Red and Purple had combined and Sizz-Lorr was one of them.

“No, they don’t sir,” answered Pixen nervously at the taller and broader Irken as he eyed his scarred face for a moment. “They seem to rather like their scrimmages, as if there is something more to this than a simple game.”

The ex-fry cook looked down at the adviser, a grin playing on the being’s face. _If only they knew, if only_. “Perhaps… Is Tallest Zim ready to go? His ship is prepped and ready.”

The adviser was about to say _no_ when a loud yelp filled the room and Blue went sliding past him across the room, coming to an unsavory halt against the wall while hitting his head with a loud crack. Said crack made everyone cringed at the sound, except Zim. He merely blinked once or twice at the sound, just staring at the other co-Tallest… who was not moving.

Zim sat up, ready to do a victory dance with his newly acquired eye, when he noticed that Blue still hadn’t gotten back up. In fact, he looked kind of _not good_. He looked kind of dead, in fact.

Sitting still for a moment as he watched blood drip down the side of his co-Tallest’s mouth, Zim’s eyes slowly got wide. Slowly, as if standing on cracking ice, the red Irken rose to his feet and drew nearer to his old enemy, whispering, “B-blue? Are you trying to trick Zim?”

No answer.

Zim’s antennae fell flat against his head in slight worry.

“Blue?” came Zim’s voice again as he jogged across the span, sliding to a halt at his other’s side though he refused to touch the other at first. “Blue, stopping playing a trick on Zim. I was the rightful winner.”

The ex-invader stared at his first and only companion for a moment feeling panic rise in his chest. What had he just done? The red Tallest reached forward and was about to start shaking the other violently, but stopped and rolled his eyes. He should have known. The Tallest quickly threw his head over to one of the advisers. He huffed and simply stated, “Bring Zim a soda.”

Everyone, who had been staring at Blue’s body, then stared at Zim.

The appointed adviser swallowed, his tone worried, “Bu-but my Tallest, Blue just died or is dying. We need to call the med drones!”

“Bring… Zim… a soda!”

The adviser blinked and then did as he was commanded, his fingers twitching as he handed the cup to his Tallest. Zim took the soda, taking a nice long swig before throwing the rest of the drink in Blue’s face. A gasp escaped the _dead_ form of Blue, the blue Tallest sputtering and gasping as he tried to sit up.

Zim merely refrained from laughing.

“God damn it, Zim!” came a wailing curse from the co-Tallest as he finally sat up, clutching the back of his head. “What the hell… And what am I covered in? It’s sticky.”

Zim stiffened… those were not Irken curse words. Irk, it was happening too soon! The Tallest felt his innards tighten, paying no mind to the advisers that were flocking around Blue. _Calm down, calm down. That’s why you called Sizz-Lorr_. _If Blue can hold back Dib’s memories, everything will be fine._

He would not lose Blue.

With that thought, Zim took a step away from the other and frowned, fingers twitching. He was going to wait to leave, but now it was a case of: _the sooner the better_. Besides, his ride was already here.

Red eyes danced over to the fry cook and he smirked. The Tallest quickly glided away from the blue Tallest, who was struggling to escape his smothering advisers, and over to the hulking figure. The ex-invader smirked as he grinned down at the bulky being, using his hover belts to do a quick three-sixty around the other to show dominance.

Sizz-Lorr merely glared, his eye twitching slightly. This was normal for them though. The two beings weren’t what a person would call companions. They were more like partners in crime, surviving each other in need more then want. Not that anyone knew that except for each other and Dib. Not that Dib was completely there anymore.

“Hello, Sizz-Lorr. I take it Zim’s ship is ready to go?” mocked the Tallest, throwing a weary glance over to Blue whom was being taunted by a med drone.

“Yes,” Sizz-Lorr’s voice dropped and he threw a weary look over in Blue’s direction, “I take it Dib will not take no for an answer. I’ll give him that. He never did know how to give up.”

“No, he does not,” stated Zim in a cold tone.

The Tallest was silent for a moment, fingering the small jar in his hands. The eyeball was familiar in some way. Maybe it was the same color as the brown earth which Dib had fought so hard to protect, or maybe it reminded him of those nasty brown hamburgers he loved so much, or perhaps, it reminded him of the eyes he once possessed.

There was no way to know. The owner was little more than a figment now.

Zim took one more longing look at the eye. There was no point in dwelling regardless. He just as well’s get it over with. Before the red Irken knew what he was doing, he had pulled Blue up by his armpits and away from their dotting _babysitters_. Blue grumbled at the other as he clutched his newly bandaged head, hover belts kicking in so he could keep up with Zim and not worry about walking.

“I win again,” mocked Zim as he glided into the hall, heading in the direction of their lodgings.

Blue merely grumbled about cheap shots and leaned a little more onto his co-ruler as a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Sore loser,” murmured the true Irken as he came to a halt outside of Blue’s room, his hover belts swaying from the sudden stop. The door opened with a soft hiss and Zim hastily swept over to the recharge berth. Blue didn’t even have to be told as he slid down into the cushioned berth, hand still cupping his head.

Zim would pay for this.

“I want my eye,” murmured Blue lazily as he put out his clawed hand, looking utterly pathetic as he did so.

“Whatever do you mean?” mocked the red Irken as he reached for a cord in the back of the berth, leaning past Blue to do so.

Blue make a quick stab to the other’s ribs to get his point across.

Zim merely yelped and withdrew from the berth for a moment to rub his rib. Here he had thought Blue was done playing. Yet, one good look at the other agreed with the mental assessment. Blue looked ready to pass out.

Rolling his eyes at the other, Zim reached for the berth recharge cord again while he grumbling, “Stop being a smeetling or I’ll purposely put this in wrong.”

Blue glared at the other, keeping the port to his pak stubbornly closed. He wasn’t going into sleep mode until he had his eye back. He knew he might never see it again if he didn’t get it back now. So the blue Tallest put out his hand again, grumbling, “Give me the eye first.”

Zim tried not to smile, but Blue was acting like a pouty smeetling and it was _almost_ adorable. Not that Dib really wasn’t a smeet. Blue was young, not even thirty yet in human years, while Zim himself was several hundred years old. But that fact never bothered Zim. In fact, Blue’s youth just show how truly ingenious he was. Sadly, Zim was the only one who could really admire his co-Tallest for this reason.

“Okay, fine, you can keep it to haunt you on your berth-side while I’m gone. Irk knows it’s creepy enough. It’ll probably scare the advisers away if you’re lucky,” murmured Zim as he leaned towards the surprised Irken, a soft click following after as he plugged in Blue’s pak.

Blue stared at Zim in surprise, barely noting that his pak had just started to shut down his systems for sleep and repair mode.

“You’re leaving? How long? Wait, is there another Foodcourtia parade or something, because I promise I won’t try to drown you in the nacho cheese ever again,” pouted Blue.

Tallest Blue knew he sounded pathetic and like a smeetling, but he hated ruling the _Massive_ when Zim went on one of his crazy ventures. It just felt _wrong_. It was like people weren’t supposed to listen to him. Yet, when Zim was off being his usual moronic self, all responsibilities were shifted over to him. Unfortunately for Blue, that would then lead to the issue of conquering. A part of him just wanted to jump out of his seat and hiss, “I’ll stop you”, but that would never happen. He was a Tallest, an Irken. It was in his species’ very nature to conquer. Only a defect would try to interrupt Impending Doom Two. And the Irken race could not have a defect for a leader.

So Blue just ignored such thoughts and ground his teeth until Zim came back from his trip. For some reason, the other Irken would calm this uneasy feeling, as if Zim belonged in his world. It was if he had always been in it… even the parts he couldn’t remember. Though, when he had forgotten, he could not recall.

Zim growled at the mention of the cheese incident. It took him a long time to get over that nacho cheese phobia. He still believed that it has been the Dib part of Blue that had done it, in spite of entrapping him this way. Not that he could prove it.

“I’ll be gone for a few days. There is something I need to _fix_.”

A silence fell over the room, except for the humming of Blue’s pak, which was struggling to pull its owner into sleep mode and was working quite effectively as Blue was forced to lay down, eyes still on Zim.

Zim sighed internally for small favors. Here he was afraid that Blue would still be awake enough to interrogate him.

“Time for recharge, whiny smeetling. May your eye keep you comfort,” added Zim as he placed the jar on Blue’s bedside. Quickly, he looked down at Blue, expecting to see the being grinning at him. No, _Dib_ grinning at him as if mocking how quickly _Blue_ was falling apart this time. His fears were quickly quenched as he watched Blue’s eyes flicker beneath his eyelids. He was asleep, dwelling in his dreams.

Not that true Irkens were supposed to dream.

With one more glance at the eye in the jar, which was staring accusingly at him, Zim swept out of the room, his robes shifting from the swiftness of his movements. Only once Zim was gone from sight did the eye seem to move of its own accord, turning in Blue’s direction as if wishing him _pleasant_ dreams.

…

Dib panted as he came up to Zim’s side, not even noticing the worried look that was presently on the other’s face. Instead, the human leaned forward on his knees, struggling to get a good deep breath, but that was hardly what he got. In fact, he fell backwards onto his rump, gasping as a strange little blue-gray creature with horns stuck its face into his. It almost seemed giddy with excitement.

“What is that?!” yelped Dib as he tried to crawl backwards away from the thing as it started prodding at him with interest, poking at any human characteristics that still remained.

Zim forced a smile on to try and calm himself. He was just now noticing how sickly Dib looked. He’d been so hopeful, since Dib had agreed with him, that he hadn’t looked to deeply into the extent the transformation had taken on the other; he’d try to be more careful.

“That, oh paranoid Dib-beast,” Dib threw a glare at Zim’s comment, “Is that big, _scary_ Voritan I was talking about.”

Dib glared at Zim for a moment, grumbling bitterly, “I woe the day I defined sarcasm to you.”

Yet, before he could make any more comments, the strange being suddenly pulled at the half-lings still developing antennae, making him tremble from the sensory overload.

“Interesting,” commented the Voritan as he took a step back, taking in Dib’s form completely; it was then that a frown formed on his face and he wearily threw a look up at Zim, “but there might be a slight problem.”

Zim suddenly tightened, his forced grin disappearing as he looked away from the cringing half-ling as he tugged his antennae back, “What do you mean a _problem_! The deal was clear! Was it not, horned beast? In exchange for the future freedoms of your species and your planet, you must provide recalibrations for my pak and provide one for Dib!”

“What?” choked Dib, staring at the other in horror as he took another shallow breath. What was going on here? Zim never mentioned anything about him having to get a real one of those things. In fact, he had said he didn’t want one during one of their discussions. Sadly, the human couldn’t state his distaste as he suddenly kneeled over in pain, claws digging into the dusty earth of planet Dirt.

 _Sweet Medusa_ , his lungs were now on fire!

Of course, neither being noticed Dib’s pain or his protest as they continued to murmur between themselves.

“That’s not the problem!” hissed the Voritan as he looked around in a hurry to make sure no one had heard the Irken’s outburst. Once his paranoia had been quenched, the Voritan spoke again, but only in a whisper, “We have both, but there may be a slight problem… you never told us that this Dib person was so tall. It might mean complications.”

“What kind of complications?” added Zim, his antennae falling flat against his head.

“I’m not sure yet… Bring him in and we’ll run some tests,” added the Voritan in a worried tone, “and hurry. It looks like his body is about to give out due to stress.”

A nod came from the Irken as he looked down at the other. He had noticed that Dib’s breathing had just become shallow, meaning that his human lungs were just about to give out. He didn’t know that it would be this soon though.

The soft pounding of boots came to a quick halt at Dib’s side, stirring up a small cloud of dust. Dib looked up at him, eyes half-mast in exhaustion, but it was easy for Zim to tell that with each struggling breath, fear was building up inside Dib’s mind. The human nearly clawed into him as Zim knelt down at his side. The Irken gave him a weary look before helping him to his feet, nearly carrying the other from a grip around his waist.

…

“I will not… put… one of those… things on… my back,” Dib gasped as Zim ducted his head to get inside the building where the Voritan was leading, throwing the two beings into semi-darkness. The only light was coming from little, yellow floor lights which were randomly distanced about every two or three yards, giving the hall an ominous and disproportional look.

Zim huffed, his facial features fading in and out of the darkness as they walked down the scarcely lit hall. “Please, earth monkey, I mean _Dib_ , look at yourself? You are in no condition to be giving requests. Really, did you think that –”

The Irken didn’t get to finish his rant when he was violently pushed away, Dib falling to the floor in a lump and Zim slamming against the opposing wall. The two beings panted for a moment, just staring at each other over the expanse of the hallway, both partially hidden in the darkness. The invader rung his hands together in a nervous manner, not wanting to look at the other, before he slowly straightening his uniform. He finally looked down at his other, praying he hadn’t started dripping, ugh crying, again like the last time a major organ became to fail. It was stressful. This time, he couldn’t help but cringe internally. Dib was bleeding from the mouth. It was one of the signs that the ten minutes of doom had started. Not good, not good!

“Dib… we don’t have time for this. We need –”

“No!” hissed Dib as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, struggling for breath so he could speak, “this is what _you_ need, not what I want. In fact, this has nothing to do with my needs. I don’t need or want a pak. I don’t _want_ to be a real Irken. I just _need_ to destroy the Tallest, Zim. A pak … will make that change permanent, won’t it? I don’t know a lot about them, but I know it has the ability to make me forget things, doesn’t it?! It can encroach on my mind, can’t it?! I don’t, _can’t_ , forget a single thing about being human. Not a single thing!”

Dib licked his lips as if he was struggling to find the words before a sniffle, regrettably, escaped him and he leaned his head back against a wall. It was all becoming too much. He couldn’t deal with this… any of this. He wanted to kill the Tallest, he did, but he hadn’t even properly mourned his world, his family! He knew he was depressed, he bloody knew it. So, despite himself, a tear rolled down his cheek, burning as it went, “I can’t take this, Zim. It’s all happening to fast. Please. Isn’t there another way? Can’t I be human a little longer?”

Zim was silent for a moment. He felt sick and all _squirmy_ inside. He never imagined he’d ever see Dib this emotionally pathetic again. The human hadn’t even been this desperate when he had been dying.

The Irken intertwined his fingers and swallowed before stepping forward, leaning down on one leg. He grabbed the half-ling by the arm, his words a demand, “Dib, you need a pak. An Irken dies in less than ten minutes if they don’t have a pak. Now, I promise it seems bad now, but it’s better than dying.”

Dib frowned deeply and tried to wipe some of his tears away. He hated being weak. He hated being tired and achy and sick and vulnerable and basically reliant on Zim. He just… he was so tired. He just wanted to rest.

“No, you don’t understand. I-I can’t. I’m so tired of… of everything. I failed at my only mission of protecting Earth. The only mission that mattered… What’s the point?”

Anger flashed through Zim’s eyes and he squeezed on Dib’s arm, earning a hiss from the other. They were running out of time and he didn’t have time for this.

“What does it matter? Do you want to die?! Do you want to die having accomplished _nothings_ , leaving your fleshy peoples to suffer, proving them right? That you are worthless and-and, “Zim swallowed as his own sorrow started to show, “a defect.”

Dib frowned, wiping his eyes again as he tried to pull himself together.

“No, I want to save them, but,” Dib looked up at him and Zim couldn’t help but notice that his milky white eyes were showing their first tints of color, “I’m scared. I’m alone. It’s the last step Zim! There’ll be nothing human left of me… nothing. And the moment my last bit of humanity is gone, I’ll slowly forget everything. Everything there was to being human … I’ll forget who I am Zim.”

The Irken was drawn back for a moment as he watched Dib’s head bow down in defeat. That’s not what he had expected and for some reason it shook him. Dib’s greatest fear wasn’t death, but forgetfulness, loss of self. Zim’s antennae twitched at the realization. He knew this was a delicate situation now and the wrong actions could make Dib dead if the human fought this. Now, the Irken way to deal with this was to slap him and tell him to get to his feet like a good soldier, but Dib wasn’t an Irken. He was human and needed to be treated like one.

Slowly, the red Irken leaned forward, trying not to cringe as he thought of what he was about to do. He remembered something he had seen in a human park, during his researching. There was a female there and her child had injured itself due to stupidity, yet that didn’t seem to bother the female. She merely cooed for the little thing to come to her so she could wrap her arms around it in order to comfort her smeetling-child-thingy. Zim leisurely placed his forehead against Dib’s and slowly pulled the half-ling’s shoulders into a hug. He wasn’t sure if he was doing this right, but when Dib didn’t pull away Zim spoke, “I know you’re scared, Dib-meats, but it’s okay. It’ll be okay. Zim promises.”

“… But what if I forget everything,” murmured Dib as he buried his head into Zim’s neck, trying not to sob like a lost child. The last person to hug him had been… had been his mom. Had it really been that long?

Zim bit back a hiss as the tears bit into his skin, but he still cupped the back Dib’s head trying to sooth him like he had seen the human mother do. “Don’t worry so much, Dib-stinks. Everything will be fine, one way or the other.”

There was a moment of silence, just sniffles filling the darkened hall until Dib slowly pulled his head out of Zim’s neck, staring down at the floor in shame for breaking down in front of his nemesis like that. He had managed to hold out through most of the transformation, yet here he was, crying like he was seven, lost and scared.

“Why are you helping me, Zim?” came Dib’s voice, slow and quiet and he continued to look at the floor, afraid to look up and see judgment.

Zim’s eyes softened somewhat. For the longest time he had been questioning himself with the same question. Why? Well, he now knew.

“Because you helped Zim. You comforted me the moment the world crashed down around me. Now come with Zim, before you fall over dead.”

Dib swallowed, fear still evident, but he didn’t stop the full-Irken as he helped him to his feet, the haunting light of the hallway leading the way.

 


	5. Pak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofreader: Kira Kyuu

Dib quickly found himself regretting his earlier words as a door appeared at the end of the hall. It was then that the calmness their bonding session had managed to create now evaporated like mist to the wind. It was then that he realized that he couldn't do this. This was madness! He-he couldn't!

“W-wa-wait,” gasped Dib. “C-can we wait on-on this.”

The half-ling soon found himself trying to pull away, his limbs shivering as one organ or the other failed him.

With a grunt, Zim merely tightened his grip around the other's middle his claws digging into Dib's side. Dib yelped, losing his grip on the floor, but he didn't give up. Soon his fingers were trying to loosen Zim's grip around his waist, panicked breaths escaping him.

The true Irken could only thank Irk that the half-ling's claws hadn't fully developed yet. But, despite his obvious struggles, Zim could not blame him for suddenly being petrified. The Invader knew Dib was second guessing himself. He knew it wasn't because of the pain … it was because of the unknown.

"Come now, Dib-worm. I know you are nervous, but fighting it is something you can do later. Now, I need you to start calming down. That's all, try to count your breaths. They are quick and shallow, and I need you to try and slow them down. Just count."

He sincerely wanted to listen to what Zim had said, but the moment they stepped through the door, into the Voritan's lab, his breath caught and his eyes jumped around the enclosure. It reminded him of one of Zim's labs, except the walls were made of what appeared to be dried dirt with light brown wallpaper covering the dirt where it could. It was shanty, like it was a lab meant for a battle field. In fact, it was easy to tell that the lab had been in use for a long time. The wear and tear was evident on the tools, multiple used and broken pieces adorning unused shelves like a collection.

Yet, despite the definite third-world décor the lab had going for itself, the lighting was what bothered him. It was mostly dim in the room. The lights were all pushed up into the corners of the walls, save for a few tentacle lamps over desks, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was the brightest light of them all which hung tauntingly over a metal examination table. Said table had crude metallic arms hanging above it with none-to-friendly sharp tips on most of them.

But, before Dib could further protest, heaviness suddenly formed in his lungs and his breathing stopped all together. The Halfling's eyes widened and he quickly reached for his throat. His panic only increased as he felt his throat. It was as if his throat had just swollen up. Before Dib could properly think it over, or panic for that matter, he pushed away from his support and fell to the floor on his knees. Tears were streaming down his eyes as he clawed at his throat, trying to regain even the smallest of breaths.

The Voritan, fiddling with the pak on a nearby table, cursed. He threw a look towards Zim who was now leaning over the Halfling, trying to get him to release his grip on his throat.

"What took you so long in the halls?" growled the Voritan as he slammed the pak shut.

Zim immediately glared at the scientist, his eyes saying the threat for him.

The scientist sighed and pulled his goggles back over his eyes as he walked over towards the examination table, pak in hand, "Never mind. Get him on the table and strap him down. I won't have time to administer a sedative."

Dib shivered at the scientist’s words, but wasn't able to pull away as Zim effortlessly threw him over his shoulder and quickly got him over to the table with natural grace. The Irken then set Dib on the chilling surface, ripping an arm from the ceiling and grabbing Dib's chin, stilling his head.

"Calm down, I'm just going to put this into your neck so you can get oxygen to your systems," murmured Zim as he turned Dib's head so he would barely see the needled end which quickly appeared. Zim didn't wait another moment before stabbing the tool into Dib's neck. The human silently yelped and tried to pull the offending object out by moving his head. The Invader merely griped his head tighter, keeping the Halfling still.

"I have inserted a breather into his throat. It will place oxygen into you blood and try to force some oxygen into your lungs," added Zim, taking a breath and pulling away to start his next task. He slapped Dib's hand away as the human tried to raise his fingers to feel his throat.

"Don't get calm too soon; his blood still isn't being filtered so hurry and restrain him to the table, on his belly. He might receive some type of brain damage or organ damaged if too much waste builds up in his blood stream," added the scientist as his form stepped into a lift which hovered over the examination table, a pak in hand. Dib stared at him for a moment, eyes wide with a look of betrayal as Zim cut off his shirt for the procedure.

The invader gave no excuse to the Halfling as he pushed him down onto the table, his belly against the cold steel as a collection of restraints raised from the table like hands from the grave. Dib nearly bucked when he felt something sharp prick against his back. Yet, that sharp feeling was nothing compared to when he felt two cold hands trace down his back, feeling each bone and muscle under the skin, but, despite the panic running through his veins, Dib bit his lip and laid his forehead against the cold steel. He'd survive this. It was only pain. He'd survive this. It was only pain. He'd survive this, and get _revenge_.

"Well, he has a larger and more solid bone structure then you guys, but I doubt that that will hinder in the pak's attachment to his spine," said the Voritan calmly as he traced his fingers up and down Dib’s spine, "Give me a scalpel. The thickened spine might confuse the pak during attachment, so we'll make an entry hole for it."

Dib nearly jumped out of his skin the next time someone touched his back, the cool voice of the Voritan quickly grumbling, "Now, this will only be a pinprick … the worst has yet to come."

With a soundless whimper, Dib dug his claws into the metal of the table and pressed his head against the metallic table. _Its only pain. Its only pain. Its only pain_ … _your heart has suffered worse._

A flinch escaped him despite the warning as the blade dug into his skin, every muscle in his back tightening as he felt the warmth of blood pool around the edges of the wound. Then he nearly jumped out of his skin the moment the cool metal of the pak laid against his back. A grinding noise from his teeth was all he was allowed as protest, given that his lungs were momentarily useless

Dib was sure he wouldn't be allowed the simple right of screaming when the pak attached itself.

"We need to keep his spine as still as possible, hold his head and neck still," added the Voritan as he placed his hand over the pak, ready to activate it, a small smile forming on his lips. He knew the specimen before him was not a _real_ Irken, but he would still take some pleasure from watching it tremble and silently scream in agony. It was the least he deserved for all that had been brought onto his people by the Irkens. Yet, if this plan truly worked, he'd never have to worry about the Irkens again.

Zim silently did as he was asked and Dib wished he had at least he lung power to whimper as he heard a click come from the pak. There was a moment's stillness, a building tension, and then half a dozen little tentacles climbed out of the pak. They seemed to run over Dib's back, as if tasting it. Then, the little limbs were still for a moment as if contemplating their next action. Dib was ready for the shock as the little tentacles started to crawl into the wound in his back all at once, tearing the skin in order to get deeper access. Warmth soon covered his back as blood pooled down his sides and onto the table. Silent screams escaped Dib's lips as he tried to struggle against the grip of the restraints of the table, yet his strength soon wavered as he felt the tentacles start of wrap around his spinal column. He quickly buried his head into the table, tears running down his face as a cracking noise filled the room, the tentacles weaving into the very bone.

Yet, before Dib could throw his head back to cry another silent scream, the pain was suddenly dulled, his entire back going numb. He slumped heavily against the table, his eyes lazily staring at the claw marks he had created in the metal. He could still scarcely remember doing so, but now his mind was all fuzzy and warm, like something was slowly pressing itself into his psyche. There it pulled his pain away as it crawled into the deepest catacombs of his mind, logging and entering data as it made itself at home.

The Voritan titled his head as Dib's struggling became still, his breath returning. His fingers were quickly upon the pak, pressing a switch so it bared its inners to him. The scientist stood on his tiptoes to get a better view of the pak's inner workings, soft red light playing over the features of his face and goggles. Zim wasn't far behind in checking out the pak's workings.

With a sigh, the scientist pulled away, matching Zim's glance, "The pak seems to have noticed its owner's distress. It has administered sedatives to deal with the pain of its entry as well as its continued work in integrating itself and removing any foreign bodies … or in this case, any traces of the specimen's human organs that still remain."

Zim nodded and ran his fingers lightly over the pak, his mind calming. For the briefest of seconds, he was sure Dib was going to die. Luckily, that hadn't happened. Nothing, not even death, could separate him from his adversary … his competition … his enemy … his teacher … his fellow defective. Dib was  _his_  companion, even if he didn't know it yet.

"What was your worry for then? I know it's not because everything is perfect," murmured Zim as he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest as his antennae fell back against his head.

"You'd be correct in that assumption," said the Voritan as glanced upward at the pak’s readings, drawing his fingers out of the mechanism, "but it could be worse."

"But it's not good either," growled the Invader as he desperately tried to keep the rage out of his voice. It would do no good for his pak to read his stress signals and target the Voritan as a threat. He needed the irritating worm alive … as much as that fact distressed him.

_He didn’t trust him._

"Like I said," murmured the scientist as he pulled a thick cord out of the collection of wires above the slab Dib was on, sticking it into the pak with a sickening clicking noise, "it could be worse. But never fear: _you_ can fix it."

Zim glared at the Voritan's failed attempt at human humor. Apparently, there was a vid collection floating around of some of Zim's earlier, more retarded, hails. They were highly sought after and apparently considered one of the best comedy collections this side of the universe. When he finally got his power, the first thing he was going to do was destroy _every last copy_ of his ... dumber days, to put it lightly.

Gritt personally made it an obligation to get in as many Earth jibes as he could before the very mention of Earth was erased from the record, because by the look on Zim's face, that would probably be happening soon.

"How do I fix it, Gritt? Do I go out and get a carbonator from a Buick or what?"

Gritt, in all his Voritan knowledge, was stumped, "A Buick … is that like a type of Irken medical device?"

Zim could only laugh, noting again just how much Earth had corrupted him, his voice bouncing off the walls has Dib's pak pulled the other into a forced stasis.

…

It was easy to say that Zim’s laughter from earlier quickly died, but that was just how the real world was he supposed. It would allow you one moment of happiness just to painfully thrust you to the ground like a coconut from a tree … a tree that had just happened to have cement planted around the entire circumference of its trunk.

Well, at least he wasn't full of nasty white milky gooey Earth juices.

Zim sighed and buried his head in his hands. He so did not want to do this and when he said _so_ , he meant _so_! He'd rather cut off an antenna and be half blind for the rest of his life than do this. Really, he'd do it. He'd do it without any type of painkiller and with a rusty hedge clipper to boot, just so he wouldn't have to do this.

The Irken sighed, a very human characteristic he had sadly hijacked due to too much _human watching_. Slowly, despite the pleas of his innards, Zim dialed the hail frequency regretting it before anyone even answered. But he had to do this. He had to do this for Dib and himself. Irk, here he had thought that Dib's height would be nothing but a pro, but no! That would just be too easy, wouldn't it? Irk forbid if something went his way once in his miserable life.

The fourth hail went through and Zim physically cringed when a face appeared on the other side, shock on the other’s face as his hat tilted slightly to the left, "Zim? Zim, why are you calling me its three in the morn-… _ZIM! When I get my hands on you I'm going too_!"

Yet, the other’s anger was quickly replaced with a dread filled look. If an Irken could go pale, he was that, his words weary, "Yo-you're dead. The Tallest had you squished." The other quickly pulled away from the screen, placing a hand over his forehead, "I have food poisoning, don't I?"

"You and I both," grumbled Zim as he slouched forward. Dying would have been easier than what he was about to do, "Now, from one outcast to the other, I have a business deal for you. I will no longer be underfoot … and neither do you."

Sizz-Lorr had always been an Irken of few facial expressions, but today was the first time he had been angry, then shocked, and then for the first time in a long time … happy. His words almost satisfied, "I'm listening, _dead man_."

Zim really hated that Earth vid collection.

…

Blue sat silently in his Tallest's chair, a look of distaste on his face as he played with his jarred eye once more. It had been several day cycles since Zim had disappeared and, frankly, Blue was getting annoyed. Now, he always considered himself the brains of the operation, but not a conqueror. So it was unnerving when an Invader would call every other hour to report something or ask for supplies. It had never occurred to the Tallest just how much _work_ Zim really did.

But, despite his obvious annoyance, there was something else, like a whisper in the back of head. It spoke no words, but for some reason its presence told him he felt a little lighter about having his co-leader gone. It was like a feeling of opportunity, like a guard was no longer standing in front of his cell. He was able to escape now.

Blue's rare smile quickly disappeared as that old feeling of confusion quickly crept back into his pak, his mind asking: _escape from what_?

"My Tallest?"

The current Tallest stopped dwelling on the feeling and looked down to see a shorter Adviser; the shortest and newest Adviser, in fact. Blue believed his name was Ta-boo, yet he was not about to address him by name. Zim always found it faintly disturbing that Blue remembered everyone's names. He said that a Tallest shouldn't remember such lowly servants. Only high ranking officers and Invaders deserved such individual attention from a Tallest.

_But Zim isn't here, now is he?_

Blue's antennae twitched at the inner realization, but that wasn’t what bothered him. This voice in the back of his head felt familiar … like going home after a very long time of being gone.

"Yes, Ta-boo?"

The small Irken jolted, his head coming out of its bow as he stared at his Tallest with wide, shocked eyes. His expression was easily matched by the curious and even surprised looks of the rest of the staff in the room, even Sizz-Lorr. Remembering the newest, not to mention shortest Adviser, was like remembering the servant that had just served the Tallest's drink. It just didn't happen.

"Is there something wrong, Ta-boo?" added Blue, a grin forming on his face at the expressions around him. It was nice not to feel constricted. Maybe having Zim gone for a few days wasn't such a bad idea after all.

The adviser stuttered, before he nervously pulled at his robes and looked to the floor, murmuring, "Y-you know my name, sir?"

Blue put on the soft, reassuring smile that he usually wore when talking to some of the more _dishearten_ members of the species, "Well, of course. I know all your names … every single one of you in the room. Why wouldn't I?"

A choking noise escaped Sizz-Lorr as he stared at Blue in shock. Yet, his look was nothing compared to the look of the pilots that were just below him, or the Advisers. It was rich. It was always a treat in Blue's mind to catch his people off guard. In fact, with all the odd things he'd thrown their way, he was surprised he still could catch any of the regular workers off guard.

A soft chuckle escaped the ruler as the slack-jawed expression remained on Ta-boo's face. Slowly, Blue leaned forward in his chair, as if he were speaking to a child, "What is it that you wanted, anyway?"

The small Irken, tilted his head and he seemed to struggle with his vocals for a moment before murmuring, "Well, I was informed that Tallest Zim was to know if we received any clues to the whereabouts of any resistance groups."

Blue cocked his head and was about to give a command when a shadow over fell him. The Tallest tipped his head up and glanced at Sizz-Lorr for a moment as if daring him to interrupt. The ex-cook merely tightened his lips and said nothing. Blue tried not to smirk at the small victory. Sizz-Lorr was Zim's unofficial babysitter/guard dog for Blue. He had just always been there, yet, despite his obvious guard dog appearance, Blue respected him. It was like they had once seen battle together.

So, regardless of his obvious intentions, Blue would allow him to voice his opinions … later.

"You mean the Resisty? Please, they are a helpless assemblage of fools since the Voritan's abandoned them," murmured Blue, his once tightened posture loosening to a slouch, his fingers slowly stretching for a drink at his side.

Sizz-Lorr tightened as he threw a glare at the adviser since he _knew_ what the other was about to say, but the shorter being pretend not to see the venomous glare and merely kept his sights on his Tallest. Ta-boo didn't think much of Sizz-Lorr, even though he was somewhat a high official in Zim's cabinet. He had no idea why Tallest Zim seemed to barely be able to tolerate the other, yet he gave him so much power, even giving him the great privilege of private meetings within Zim's quarters. No one even had any idea what they talked about … and no one dared ask.

"No, my Tallest," came Ta-boo, "It is the Ark."

Blue opened his mouth, about to say something, but stopped. He had never heard of this group, but for some reason it crept up his spine, leaving a chilling feeling in his bones, "The Ark … I don't recall that resistance. Are they new?"

 _Not good, not good, not good!_ Was all Sizz-Lorr could think as he looked at Blue's expression. He was supposed to keep Dib from re-emerging while his other half was gone, but that was from himself. Zim had no idea what an actual, physical, outside stimulus would do to Blue's mind. That was why he and the rest of the original group had gone out of their way to destroy every clue that remained of Dib's old life. They destroyed Earth, removed all proof of the planet's existence from Irken files, and deleted Zim's conquering tapes. Personally, Sizz-Lorr thought that one was personally more for himself than for Blue's sake. Yet, despite all their efforts … one thing remained. The Ark. Zim had actually given him his own squad in order to eradicate the force, and he would be after them right now, taking care of the Ark, but he had to babysit 'Dib'.

He definitely had to stop this.

Ta-boo's antennae went straight up in the air, "H-haven't heard of them? My Tallest … b-but they are one of our top priorities! They are dangerous, cunning, and revenge seeking. Their leader will stop at nothing. He and his followers, despite their small numbers, have interrupted countless invasions, destroyed numerous Invaders, and … made it a personal vendetta to destroy Tallest Zim. In fact, that's Sizz-Lorr's top priority when he isn't consulting you or Zim."

Blue blinked once or twice. He did not know about that. In fact, _why the irk didn't he know about this_! Why the nerve of it all. If someone was threatening the empire, no matter how small, he was supposed to know. And Sizz-Lorr … that _jerk_! He had asked him once why, as a general, his ship wasn't with the Armada like the rest of the generals. Yet, the lying cheat said that it was nothing of important. He was just doing some odd jobs Tallest Zim sent him on.

A growl escaped Blue, a strange sound that made all of the advisers turn their heads from whatever conversation they were having. The beings' exchanged worried glances and then sent a glare at the youngest member of their group, Ta-boo, thinking he was the culprit. The shortest of the advisers cringed under their gaze, but the attention was quickly diverted when Blue was suddenly to his feet and glaring down at Sizz-Lorr.

The large Irken took a surprised step backward as he looked into those angry orbs. The behavior shocked him mostly because that was not a characteristic of Blue, but Dib. He promised to remember that look in Dib's face forever. It was the last expression offered to him before “ _Dib”_ had gone away and Blue had begun.

"M-my Tallest?" murmured the ex-fry cook as he felt his instincts kick in, "I can explain," said the Irken as he looked around, noticing all the attention, "Perhaps in private at least."

"Yes, _your_ Tallest. Your _leader_ , _lord_ , and _master_ ," siad Blue as he leaned in close, "Yet, perhaps, you would like to explain to me and everyone else in the control room why you have only informed _one_ of your Tallests about this threat?"

Sizz-Lorr's antennae fell hard against his head as all eyes fell on him, but it was Blue's eyes that truly captured him. He was disappointed. Now, Sizz-Lorr would never admit it to Zim, but he did have a particular liking for Blue/Dib. The ex-human had qualities that an Irken could never hope to ascertain. Curiosity, hope, forgiveness, cunning, sarcasm, and kindness. He was a good leader. He cared about his people. He even suffered for his people … no Tallest had ever done that. They were generally greedy people. Blue … he hated conquering, but he did it with a high chin if only for his peoples continued survival.

The commander found himself bowing, "I-I am sorry my Tallest. I-it's just that his Tallest Zim … asked me not to tell you."

Blue's eyes went wide in shock as he stared at the form at his feet. Zim, his closest companion, had lied to him? W-why? Zim might have been irritating, loud mouthed, and a bit trigger happy, but he always told Blue the truth. He was Blue's best friend. When no one was around, the two of them would merely sit in their chambers watching old Invader reports about superstitions from other planets. It was easy to say that Zim knew Blue better than he was sure he knew himself.

And for some reason this truth … _it hurt_. He trusted Zim. He trusted him with his very life. His very pak.

Blue's antennae dropped and his eyes drew downward in a sad expression as he looked downward at Sizz-Lorr, "Why would he ask that of you?"

Sizz-Lorr merely gave his saddened Tallest a begging look. He could not tell. Blue's shifted, the want to disappear suddenly filling his gut as he questioned himself. Was he the weakest of the two leaders? Did Zim not trust him with this information? Blue swallowed, biting his tongue slightly to keep the estranged emotion he was feeling at bay. It was weakness for an Irken leader to show such failings. So what if Zim had kept something from him … he would no longer.

The towering figure threw a hard look at his pilots and with a wave of his hand, said coolly, "Hail Tallest Zim. I believe him and I have some words."

The pilots all cringed but quickly started to do as they were told. All they could do was silently thank Irk that Zim wasn't personally here or there would be a fight of the ages boiling.

"Hailing Tallest Zim. Transmission received in three, two –

The screen suddenly blinked to life before the pilots could call out one and Blue threw a glare to the screen, mouth open, ready to hiss his demands, when his eyes went wide. It was not red eyes glaring back at him, but cold emotionless goggles. The two beings stared at each other for a still moment, and when Blue opened his mouth ready to demand who the hell he thought he was interrupting a Tallest call, the figure spoke, his deep voice resonating in hatred.

"Tallest Blue," came that deep voice that sent a shiver through his form, "I don't believe I've have the pleasure. My name is Professor Membrane … and I'm going to kill you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say … just tired, but Membrane has finally shown up. Wooh!


	6. Father of Mine

Professor Membrane, Commander Membrane now, still had dreams about his lost son.

 It was like a ghost that would rise to the surface whenever his mind wished to rest and slumber. Membrane couldn’t rest much anymore, so why should he allow the murderer of his first born rest? The only time he would be able to allow his head to fall upon his pillow in complete contentment was when he killed that monster. He would never rest until he killed _ZIM_.

Oh Chemistry, how he hated that name. Once upon a time, on a planet long since lost, that name would bring a small chuckle or a smile behind his collar. Zim had been his son’s strange ‘ _alien_ ’ friend. It had seemed like an odd friendship with those two constantly playing spy games and war, but Dib seemed somewhat content. At the time, Membrane was sad to admit that he was rather disappointed in the choices of his son. He didn’t mind Dib’s new friend in the purpose of being a friend, but it bothered him that his son’s little friend seemed to be dragging his boy farther and farther from science.

 Yes, then there was science.

 It was funny really, that once he lost his son, just how illogical the whole logic of science seemed. It was then in the rain of fire, screams of the dying and conquered, that he realized just who he was creating all this science for. At first it had been for himself but later on it seemed for his children’s' sake. He wanted them to have a future … He wasn’t sure how else to express his feelings to them. He had always been a person of beakers and formulas, to extract that same feeling but onto a person, he wasn’t exactly sure as how to do that. There were no natural undeniable laws, no recipes, no positive yeses or noes … just a whole lot of maybes. It was by a pure miracle that the two children were created at all.

 Though, it seemed that he had failed in that matter just like one would fail in letting an experiment set unattended. Sooner or later the beaker would grow hot and break or the contents would explode. He should have been paying attention to his family. It was his _greatest_ experiment: it was his life.

 So, despite losing Earth, nothing had affected him more than finding out that his son had not gotten onto one of the evacuation ships.

 He didn’t remember much after finding that out, but one of his assistance told him, in a shivering voice, what he had done. Apparently, Membrane had been silent for a long time after the news, his breathing slow and barely audible. Then, with a rage he tried to escape to one of the smaller ships onboard, crying they were wrong, that his son was resilient, and that his boy wasn’t dead. Dib couldn’t be dead … sons were supposed to bury their fathers.

 Membrane did recall coming to, out of his temporary madness, a few days later, strapped to a medical bed like some kind of mad dog. For a few minutes he just laid there, jacket and goggles removed and leaving him barren and wide open for all to see. His eyes were dull as he tried to think of why he was here in this bunk. Yet, while his mind tried to come up with the calculations or formulas as to why he was in this bed, the patter of petite feet made him drag his half glazed brown eyes towards the ghost lingering at his side.

 “ _Hi dad.”_

  _The man blinked, not use to the world without viewing it through his goggles, and the blurry form of his son disappeared into the form of his daughter within a second. For a moment he stared at her. For some reason all he could do was watch her, his lips unresponsive._

 “ _You know,” said the girl as she stood there, her usual angry demure lost to redden eyes as if maybe she had been sad. Wait? What? He didn’t know his daughter very well, but he did know she didn’t cry. Even when she was a baby she hadn’t cried._

 “ _I never noticed … that you cared. I mean actually cared. It just seemed more like we were item and that we meant little to you. We were just your cute toys to drag out to your big openings. I was so desperate for you attention, to know that you cared, that I started to act out … I became cold. You know what, father. I started to believe that you didn’t know how to love or what love was and that I should act the same way. But when you acted that way for Dib … I … I-”_

  _A tear rolled down her face and the girl quickly dropped her head in order to hide any essence of her emotions. Her small hands – hands like her mother he noticed now that she was getting older - were quickly pulled into fists of shivering rage._

 “ _Father … do I have to die like Dib for you to show me any love?!”_

  _She had disappeared out of the room before his lips even dared to move._

 That had seemed like years now since his daughter had cried. He did what he could for her, but in the end it always felt like an obligation to Dib more than anything. He could barely look at his only child without the memory of his son returning. There was a hole in his heart. He had learned to love only as soon as it was able to hurt.

 He wanted to give a hole to Zim’s heart so they could match, both broken monsters.

 But, Invader’s didn’t love or have family. For the longest time the Professor wavered as the small hoard of surviving ships struggled to find a new home. It was then, when madness threatened to consume him, that he realized that Zim didn’t need to have a heart to hurt him. An Invader’s love lied in his kingdom.

 So he’d burn it down.

 And that worked for a while, but it seemed that Zim did have a heart, his partner: Blue. In fact, the entire Empire loved their dearest Blue if they knew it or not. That was why, when a spy said that they had seen Tallest Zim wandering the alleys of Planet Dirt, that he knew he had his chance. The Irkens would feel their very first sorrow and how truly bitter it would be.

 “Tallest Blue,” came Membrane’s voice as he struggled not to grin with satisfaction, his thirst about to be quenched. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. My name is Professor Membrane … and I’m going to kill you.”

…

 

Blue wanted to draw back in a growl of surprise, yet he found himself still, gawking. His eyes widened another inch, something slamming in the back of his mind telling him to look, _look, see, see_! What was he supposed to see? What was he supposed to _see_?

“Not the conversation type, are we, Tallest Blue?” said Professor Membrane as he leaned back into his chair, his goggles glinting even though most of his form was now hidden in shadows. “I must admit I’m surprised. You seem to be nothing like Zim. He would have been in a fit if I was so forward with him, hitting buttons wherever he may, but you … you are the calm silent type. I respect that.”

Blue tried to pull his mind to the present even though it was practically screaming at him to remember, remember _, remember_! Ugh, remember what?

“But,” continued Membrane as he moved his finger towards a button to his side. “I’m still going to kill you.”

A wicked laugh escaped the attacker’s throat as his finger fell upon the button, the ship in the background seeming to rock from the very action. Then, in a cause and effect, a ray of light which resembled a waking star formed in front of the ship. The Ark’s back engines suddenly kicked in and for a second the pilot’s cried, ‘He’s going to ram us!’ but just the opposite happened. The light was a canon, an electromagnetic canon, which nearly sent the ship sailing backwards in a backlash.

“It’s an electromagnetic pulse!” cried Sizz-Lorr to everyone in the room. “Turn off your paks! Tell everyone to turn off their paks before it hits us! The pak will die if it’s online!”

Screams of panic and stumbling feet filled the room as each member stopped what they were doing to try and assist other members offline their paks. Blue merely stood there, eyes wide as he watched panic and teamwork overtake his bridge. A _what_? Turn off his pak? Blue didn’t remember a lot of his earlier days, but he knew the ‘ten minutes of doom’ rule as Zim called it. An invader did not just ‘turn off their pak’ unless they had some kind of death wish. Yet, here were most of the members of his bridge turning off their life source. This was utter _madness_. True, Blue had just heard of this enemy but could they truly be so frightful that his soldier’s obeyed without question.

“My Tallest,” came Sizz-Lorr’s voice, dragging the leader from his frozen state by grabbing Blue’s arm, pulling him towards himself. “Hold still. I’ll get your pak for you.”

There wasn’t even time to disagree as the large alien’s hand slid onto Blue’s pak with far too much ease letting the taller Irken know that the General had pulled off this action far too many times. Not that Blue really got to think about it when his body was suddenly slammed into self-sufficiency, his knees collapsing from the sudden stress. Sizz-Lorr didn’t miss a beat as he fell with his leader into a crouch, placing himself as a living shield over his master in order to protect the leader from the shock of the coming hit. After all, what use was an energy shield against a weapon which shorted out the technology that created the shield? Not much, Sizz-Lorr knew from experience. The first time that human had used that weapon … his forces had been devastated and he nearly died.

When the attack finally hit home base, the impact made the entire ship shiver, electricity suddenly jumping throughout the entire ship’s form like an electric blue flood. Then, as if a sonic boom had befallen the inner guts of the ships, almost every piece of glass, consuls and lighting, exploded from the sudden surge of energy … and the ship went dark, the darkness consuming every being within.

For a moment, Blue didn’t do anything. He was just still with his lungs struggling to work on their own. The silence didn’t last long though, soon commands were erupting from the pilots’ den, and the medical drones were rising to their feet and running to other Irken’s throughout the base that hadn’t been able to turn off their pak’s fast enough. And then there was this warmth that dripped down onto Dib’s arm that made his eyes snap open and look. With the help of the emergency light he could see that there was blood dripping down from above. With a grunt, Blue was about to push the larger being off and see if he was killed in action, protecting his lord. Surprisingly, the mountain moved of its own accord and the sound of shifting glass soon filled Blue’s ears as the bulky form that had been protecting him rose out of the shielding ball, his eyes scanning the room before he looked back down at Blue to see if his leader had been injured. Sizz-Lorr’s eyes widened when he saw the blood staining his Tallest’s robes.

“Were you injured? Remain still, I will get a medical drone,” said Sizz-Lorr in almost a panic as he tried to rise to his feet.

Blue merely put out a hand, stopping the bulky Irken.

“I’m fine. It’s your blood,” said Blue as he stared at the blood dripping down the side of Sizz-Lorr’s head. He even took his hand and was about to touch the other’s wound to see its depth when the larger being rose to his feet with a look that could be compared to little more than embarrassment, shaking his head at the other’s offer at help.

Blue merely nodded at the action and took a shivering breath with his weak lungs, glad one of his best Generals wasn’t dead. That worry gone, he had a new problem: control the chaos. Placing his hands so that he could lift himself up without getting cut since there was no way his hoover-belt would work without a reboot, Blue started to rise to his feet and full stance, only to be overcome by dizziness.

Quickly noticing his leader’s distress, Sizz-Lorr put out a hand to still the leader and stop him from falling on his face. He had seen the reaction far too many times not to expect it. Off lining pak’s could be a very disorienting process. Gripping his Tallest’s thin arm, Sizz-Lorr then proceeded in helping his tall leader to his chair, stopping to push the glass off the seat before allowing his commanding officer to sit.

Blue sat there a moment, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he gripped the chair arm tightly to stop himself from falling out. His head seemed to be pounding and the ship seemed to be spinning. The halfling couldn’t help but bring a clawed hand up to his forehead and try to rub away this new growing agony. Irk, he felt like he was going to puke.

“Sit for a moment, my Tallest. The first time an Irken off-lines their paks it can be … disorienting, especially for someone of your size. Smaller Invader’s systems have less mass to deal with so their systems aren’t as dependent on their paks,” said Sizz-Lorr as he stood over a pained Blue for a moment, trying to wipe some blood out of his eyes as he looked over this lord once more to make sure the only true distress was from turning off his pak. “Just bear with us since there are still residual remnants of that blast bouncing around in the ship, we can’t turn our paks on for at least five minutes.”

Blue struggled to listen to the high officer’s words and to push back this buzzing that had formed in his ears.

“Yes, yes. Start a status report – ugh – and have every available hand getting us operational. Anyone who didn’t manage to offline there pak should report to the medical bay immediately. I don’t want my medical drones spread out. I also want that–that _man_. Professor Membrane. I want him captured, preferably alive. He will pay for this personally.”

Blue then allowed a pained hiss to come through his lips as that name bounced around in his head, the buzzing all but exploding in his head. Images suddenly slamming into his head making the leader clutch his head as something flashed before him.

“ _Dad? Can you leave the lab for a moment? I want to play like the other kids and their dads.”_

_A glint of goggles suddenly looked downward._

“ _Sorry son, SCIENCE comes first. Maybe later.”_

Blue all but lurched forward when the memory was complete, clutching his head with such ferocity with both of his hands that he was drawing blood with his claws.

“My Tallest, are you alright?” came Ta-boo as he appeared in Blue’s downcast vision, the smaller Irken’s breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to work without his pak’s assistance. He had been heading to the pilots’ den since he had significant knowledge in that field, but it was hard not to notice his Tallest’s suffering. His Tallest came before the ship’s needs. There were enough pilots anyway.

“Yes, I’m … fine,” gasped the Irken leader as blood started to drip past his cheek from his head, his nails cutting into his skin. “It’s just that my head is hurting me something awful. J-just follow the directive. I-I’ll be fine for the time being.”

“Yes, sir,” said the small Advisor reluctantly as he rushed off, stumbling on his own robes in a hurry to assist the pilots’ den, his gaze threatening to fall back towards the kinder of his two rulers.

“Are you sure, my Tallest,” said Sizz-Lorr as he leaned down slightly, a nervousness rising in his chest. Tallest Blue seemed to be in a lot of agony, his head to be exact. Now, Zim had never come out and said it, but with him fishing around in Blue’s pak whenever Dib made himself known, Sizz-Lorr had a feeling that Blue’s pak was what was keeping Dib from reemerging. But what choice did he have? Was he supposed to allow his Tallest to die? Zim would rather have to deal with a hysterical Dib and suspicious crew than have a dead Blue, _right_? Besides, in five minutes the pak would be switched back on and everything would be okay … right? Ugh, five minutes wasn’t coming fast enough.

“ _Yes, I’m fine!_ ” Blue all but snapped at the other as he turned to glare at him, his green blood now dripping onto his Tallest robes. “Now act like the General you are and tell me the fastest way to kill or capture that _bastard_.”

Sizz-Lorr drew back slightly, not shocked about being snapped at, but the fact that Blue just used a human cuss word. Irk, not good. What was he supposed to do? Should he turn Blue’s pak back on and risk it, or should he call Zim? What was he supposed to –

“Just don’t stand there,” said Blue, now staring up at the standing being, “get moving.”

Sizz-Lorr blinked, his insides trembling as he turned to the pilots’ den. He was nervous for a moment. Any other Tallest would be embarrassed if anyone other than them yelled out demands about the ship’s controls. Yet, here was Blue, his pride not even noted. The halfling was making a personal sacrifice. He wasn’t doing this for himself, but he was defending the people on this ship.

Yet another reason to be glad for Blue instead of just Zim.

Swallowing his worry, Sizz-Lorr threw a hand out and started calling commands out as if it were his own ship and it was any other battle with the Ark. Only this time he had some huge guns and his Tallest was sitting next to him. He wouldn’t dare take an eye off his leader, especially with the way the other was clutching at his head as if in pain.

Blue tried to calm himself as he absent mindedly listened to his General call out commands, the feel of blood dripping down the side of his head. Yet, despite the growing wound, he couldn’t remove his claws from his scalp. His head just hurt so much! Then there were these whispers and images that were slamming themselves into his psyche. Where were these things coming from? Was he truly so much of a defect that he couldn’t even go a minute without his pak? Taking a breath, the leader tried to press the images to the back of his mind and concentrate on Sizz-Lorr’s attack tactic, but an image of Membrane suddenly stood before him like a ghost, looking down at him with his goggles removed and a faint smile on his face. Blue couldn’t help but draw back slightly in a gasp, no one else seeming to notice the human before their Tallest.

“ _It’s okay that the experiment didn’t work, Dib. We’ll try again. I’m so proud that you are so young and showing an interest in science already.”_

“ _Daddy, science is fun! It’s like magic.”_

“ _No silly, magic isn’t real but science is genuine.”_

Blue was suddenly to his feet, his eyes wide as he stared at the place where Membrane had just been standing. It wasn’t the man in his image that scared him though. It was the smeetling like being he couldn’t see and its voice. It sounded l-like his voice, like he was the speaker? B-but he wasn’t … _Dib?_

Sizz-Lorr’s nervousness had faded away into nothingness, his knuckles turning white as he kept his hands into fists. He was going to take down Membrane. He was going to kill that human. He promised to make it quick though. It was the least he could do for the being that had been the sire of Dib. He’d still be a food drone if it wasn’t for the human’s resolve and need for vengeance. Yes, he’d use the two main guns to get rid of him, quick and effective. But before he did that, he threw a look back at his Tallest, Sizz-Lorr’s tongue stilling. Why did Blue look petrified? Was something -

A scream of agony suddenly echoed over the room making every pair of antennae in the room stand up on end. Sizz-Lorr eyes grew wide as he watched the petrified look turn into one of horror as the taller being gripped his head as if he was in the throes of madness. Yet, that was nothing compared to the clear stuff that dripped from his Tallest’s eyes, _tears_ , as another scream escaped the leader as he continued to clutch his head as if in were in tremendous pain. Then with one final cry Blue went silent, his lids flickered shut before he collapsed with a heavy thud to the floor.

The room was silent as every pair of eyes in the room fell on their collapsing lord.

Suddenly, Nave ran over to Tallest Blue, abandoning his post with the weapon’s controls to pull Blue into his arms as if he were a fallen brother. For a moment, the interrogator looked at his Tallest’s face in horror. His leader seemed to be breathing, but his eyes were dull and there was something dripping from them. Nave moved his fingers forward to touch this clear liquid dripping from his lord’s eyes and nearly drew away with a yip, his finger sizzling as if he had touched water. For a second Nave tried to come up with a conclusion as to what that was but at the moment he couldn’t care. He had been nearly tackled by one of the Advisors.

“What happened?” cried one of the taller advisors as he leaned down and tried to support his Tallest’s head. “What?!”

“I don’t know!” said Nave in all but a scream, worry rising to his chest. It was a strange feeling, one he had noticed steadily growing since Blue had started. He seemed to care about his Tallest Blue in a level far beyond any point he had felt for any other Tallests. Maybe it was because of the time he had been on the ship and all the other Tallest he had served, but he actually liked Blue. Tallest Blue … _had actually asked his name._

The advisor with almost black red eyes - Nave believed him to be one of the oldest Advisors by the name of Dimm - looked at him with what seemed to be horror. Slowly, Dimm glared at Sizz-Lorr, his voice dripping with venom, “Did you turn off his pak properly?! Sizz-Lorr did you turn off his Tallest’s pak?”

_pak …_

_pak …_

_pak …_

“How’s your pak feel my little lab rat?”

Dib’s eyes suddenly opened as he was dragged from his slumber. For a moment, he stared at the goggled eyes staring at him. Despite the sudden pleas to be still from the short form beside him, Dib forced himself to sit up. It was then that the whole occurrence slammed back to him. With shivering fingers, the changeling reached backwards, his fingers pulling away sharply and his breath catching when he felt the strangely warm metal of _his_ pak. The once-human quickly wrapped his fingers around the edge of table and stared at the floor for a minute as he struggled not to panic.

“Are you in pain?” asked Gritt once again, his eyes traveling over his patient in curiosity. “I can give you a mild Irken sedative and gather some more readouts?”

Pushing away whatever nightmares were daring to plague him, Dib slowly looked sideways until his gaze capture another pair of eyes. He stared for a moment, wondering why this Voritan was overlooking him like a clucking mother hen and not Zim. He knew he should hate Zim, but he still had a deal to fulfill and all this suffering would be for naught if he didn’t follow through.

Plus, Zim was all he had left of Earth as sick as that sounded.

“Are you feeling any aches in the back of your mind or is the pain physical? Do you even remember anything?” asked the Voritan once again, his curiosity reaching its peak. He wanted to know desperately if this experiment had been a success.

Dib pressed all pains of Earth to the back of his mind and decided to look at the being before him, ignoring a buzzing feeling now coming from his back.

“Yeah, I remember the pak’s _introduction_ ,” stated Dib in the calmness tone he could without growling. “I’m also not in pain right now. My back actually feels really numb. Why do you ask?”

The scientist pulled back for a moment and then said softly, “Are you sure? You were … leaking fluids from your eyes. I believe that in a human this is a show of stress. It is a wonder as to why those … tear sockets? … haven’t been rejected by your body as well. Perhaps early Irkens had the ability once. It would explain why the tears have changed slightly so you are no longer burned. Any other Irken would probably be in agony right now though.”

A surprised expression covered the changeling’s face and he looked at the other as if trying to recall such a happening. His eyes suddenly fell downward as he recalled exactly what he had been dreaming about. In fact, there didn’t seem a time since this whole escapade that he didn’t dream. He had, in fact, been dreaming about a lot of things. Of old hopes and fears, but mostly about things from Earth and of where he was going now. He had also dreamed of his family it seemed. He had dreamed of his father and sister and, for the briefest of moments, he recalled his mother.

The human’s eyes dragged away from that ever curious gaze of the scientist as he spoke, “I was dreaming of my family. My heart perhaps is in pain but not my body.”

The Voritan’s curiosity quickly fell into nothing and his gloved hand pulled itself into a shivering fist at his side. He had to look away from the changed being before he saw the other as something more than a glorified tool. Dib’s sorrow was a feeling Gritt knew all too well. Generally, it was sadly a feeling that only the Irken’s victims seemed to know. Irken’s were created in tubes. What would they know of family? What could they know of the love and joy a child or a lover could bring? What could an Irken know of sorrow? Personally, that was why Gritt was sure the Irken’s were so successful in there campaign. Every Irken was disposable except for their leaders. They did not know of love.

“I understand,” said the scientist softly as he buried his feelings. “I have lost many as well. So, how do you feel? Any ache or pains? Most importantly, does your head hurt?”

Dib looked at the short being suspicious for a moment, his eyes narrowing before he spoke, “Why is that important? You’ve already asked twice.”

“Well,” said Gritt as he crawled up onto the berth, his hands traveling over to the pak as he struggled to drown his own memories, barely even noting that Dib tried not to twitch as he heard his pak spring open. “Generally, paks observe an Irken’s every thought and action as well as his or her physical body. They are like a second mind which helps makes rational choices to assist a host in his or her endeavors. In fact, it is said that sometimes that metallic assistant knows what an Irken is going to think before even he or she does. There is even a rumor that some paks start forming a ‘ghost’ of their owner’s mind. Those Irkens are destroyed almost immediately. So if your pak forms one I recommend not telling anyone … except me. I’m more than a little interested in the phenomenon.”

Dib’s eyes went wide as he thought of the porn magazines under his bed and nearly slapped himself for thinking it because it was now part of his pak.

“So, let me get this right,” said Dib as he tried not to think of the first time he got to second base. “It knows everything I know?”

“Yes?” said the Voritan as he smiled, watching the electrical grid jump to life inside the pak. “And whatever you seem to be thinking right now has your pak real interested. It’s recording your every thought when generally it just observes. I’m sure it’s going to like you a lot more than its old owner with the way it’s acting.”

The changeling buried his head in his hands as embarrassment overcame him. Great, not only was he an Irken now, but apparently he had a pervert on his back. Life couldn’t get much worse, could it?

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” said Dib dryly as he pulled his hands away from his face, staring at his clawed hands. “Where’s the _moron_ anyway?”

The Voritan was silent for a minute, before he broke into laughter.

“What do you mean, _moron_? I thought he was the brains of this whole operation? Or am I incorrect?” said the alien as he went to hook up some tubes to the pak. The pak seemed healthy enough and _happy_ with an intelligent host if the electric grid was any indication, but it was easy to say that the engine was struggling. Dib’s body was just too large for the machine. It was trying though and it wouldn’t give up without a fight.

Gritt couldn’t help but grin at the realization. It seemed everyone learned to like this changeling … even his new pak. To be safe, he was going to give the pack a little help for the moment. And with that thought, the scientist plugged Dib’s pak in.

Dib nearly squawked when energy seemed to flow into his body from his spine. The teenager couldn’t help but close his eyes as his whole body seemed to shiver in some type of ecstasy. It was really nice, as if a second life was pumping itself into him. Now it was of little wonder as to where Zim got all his pep and energy, as well as sleeplessness. How could any being even dream of wanting to sleep when they had so much life pressing itself into the back of their brain? Slowly, the new Irken dragged his head down to his hands trying to strive off some of the rapture so he wouldn’t be overcome.

Gritt was worried for a moment, placing a hand on the taller being’s shoulder now that he was leaning forward.

“Is something the matter?” asked the scientist simply as he popped open the shivering specimen’s pak. He observed the inner workings for a brief moment. Nothing seemed out of order so why was Dib acting like he was about to fall off the table?

With a quivering sigh, Dib lifted his face upward as if the dull lamp above them was the sun kissing his face with its warmth. He missed the sun, but this fluttering energy climbing through almost every cell in his being almost, _almost_ , made up for the pain he had endured.

“It feels really, really, nice,” said Dib as his eyes drew open saddened that he was greeted by an electrical lamp and not the endless blue sky with its occasional fluffy, white intruders. “Like the sun has drifted into my body. I was really tired until you … plugged me in.”

Those eyes hidden behind goggles drew away from a worried expression and he returned to the pak’s current readouts. He wasn’t sure what a ‘sun’ was but he could tell that Dib was in anything but pain. Bliss was perhaps a better word.

“I can only presume that it has something to do with your weakened pak,” said Gritt not even noticing the worried expression that quickly covered his subject’s facial features.

Dib sat there, his eyes never wavering from the creature over his shoulder. With a dry tongue, he couldn’t help but inquire as to what the ‘good’ doctor meant by that. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that this pak is not sufficient for your needs and its engine will burn out if something is not done

There was a cold chill suddenly in the air and Dib’s antenna rose as a realization hit him. So Zim … basically just left him here to die? After all those promises of revenge? Dib wanted to help him destroy the Tallest and Zim would become an adviser and somehow save the last traces of the human race.

Or they’d blow up everything and quite honestly, Dib found that to be a win-win in his case ... except for the whole abandoning him because he wasn’t useful thing. He knew Zim.

“He just left me here to die, didn't he? Why am I not surprised?” came a growl from the changeling as he rose to his feet, his fingers reaching and ready to pluck the plug from his pak when a small hand reached out and stopped him.

“What are you doing?!” said Gritt. “There is a reason I plugged you in. I want to _survive_ otherwise all my work will be for nothing. And I doubt he left you to die.”

The once-human slapped the hand away, unplugging himself and trying not to shiver as his body was suddenly overcome with weakness. He then threw a glare at his torturer, grumbling, “Zim and I might have a common goal, but I don’t _entirely_ trust him either. Nearly killing me and destroying my home planet kind of killed any want for trust especially because he is leaving something _unsaid_. I just know there is some part of this plan he isn’t telling me. I will not set here and be a pawn for him.”

The scientist was silent, uncertain of what to say, because he was sure that much was true as well. Zim was always up to something. His mind didn’t kick into high gear until his specimen was halfway across the room though, Dib taking unsteady steps, his body being slowly overcome with weakness. The Voritan pulled his hand into a fist and jumped down to the floor, footsteps echoing over the lab as he quickly caught up to Dib despite the changeling's longer legs.

“Wait, wait. I think you are confused.” _He doubted that. In fact, Dib seemed spot on._ “Get back on the table. You misinterpreted my words. What I meant was –”

“Don’t cover up for him. I’ll make you a deal. After I deal with the Tallest and then kill that plotting _idiot_ , you can have my dead body. _Deal_?” grumbled Dib, his finger slamming on the button that would open the door, yet his angry was quickly changed to surprise when a pair of cold red eyes glared at Dib from the recently opened door. For a moment they just stared at each other, Dib and the Irken before the door, until the hatred resurfaced on Dib’s features, his teeth bore at the slightly shorter but certainly wider being.

“Please _move_ , I’m hunting _moron_ ,” came an irritated grumble, Dib's eyes becoming slits when he noticed the other wasn’t moving. He didn't have time to be wasting here. Who knows how long his pak was going to last.

The large being’s eyes became slits as well when he noticed the taller being irritation, his eyes easily catching what was going on as the Voritan tugged on Dib's clothing and kept looking toward the medic examination table within. The taller Irken’s misty eyes told the bulky Irken all he needed to know though. So this was the _one_.

His words were simple, “Get back on the berth, before you kill yourself. Idiot.”

A growl escaped the irritated changeling as he pulled his fingers into a fist. He didn’t have time for this Hulk impersonator. He had better things to do like: uncover Zim’s plot, destroy the Tallest, save what was left of humanity. He had plenty of better things to do than be blocked in by this other Irken and his impressive gusto.

Bustling ghouls, the new Irken looked familiar. Dib’s pak was even running around trying to find the answer, but it still hadn’t copied all of his thoughts and he was quite fine with that. He wanted to keep some things to himself after all.

Deciding enough was enough, especially when the larger Irken took a step forward into his person space, Dib drew a leg back and kicked the other in the shin as if it was nothing. A trick his sister had pulled many a times on him. A dry grunt filled the dully lit hall and the bulky Irken crashed against the wall, his eyes full of surprise. Not wanting to waste his time in even gloating, Dib made his way pass the hefty being, his destination unknown. All he needed to know was what he was going to do to Zim. He was going to rip off the traitor’s antennae and beat him with them until he coughed up whatever-

“Umph!”

Dib laid there on his back for a second, his thoughts being replaced by a winded feeling as he stared at someone’s ankles. He just stared trying to collect himself and figure out _what had just happened_. Well, he had been moving forward, torture in mind, and then the next thing he knew he was on his back on the floor. Did he slip? A pair of red eyes glared down at him. Nope, he was tripped. He was loose on his new legs but he wasn’t that much of a klutz.

“Get back into the lab,” said the bulky Irken as he stared down at Dib’s still form, his scarred eye seeming to scowl more menacingly than the other.

The humanoid sighed and slowly pulled himself upward onto his elbows, his back sending quick pains up his spine. He glared at his attacker and then with a quickly tongue stated bitterly, “Make me.”

A squeak was all that was allowed of the stunned halfling as he was dragged to his feet and slung over the shoulder of the slightly shorter Irken. He just stared at the closing door to the hall, surprise still encasing his cranium. Who the Dante’s Inferno was this? Why did this Irken care if Dib was going to die a little sooner or later or beat Zim with his own antennae? It wasn’t any of his business.

Deciding he didn’t care who his current kidnapper was, Dib brought one of his elbows into the back of his capture’s neck, making him yelp and allowing the hybrid to make an escape to the floor below. Dib didn’t even take the time to rub his ass as he rose to his feet, dashing towards the exit once more. Only this time a pak leg lashed out and tripped him once again. Yet, this time he didn’t find himself on his back and staring at the dust bunnies on the floor, but still standing somehow. The once-human looked to either side of him. He was hanging, more than standing, on four pak legs.

Well, that was a rather interesting sensation. He could sense those metallic legs holding him up, yet he knew they weren’t his legs. Dib hung there, the back of his mind fuzzy as he tried to figure out what had happened. Not that he really got a chance to figure out how he activated those extra limbs when the lumbering figure made a grab for him. A yelp escaped the confused and weakening hybrid as struggled to get away. Luckily, his pak legs knew that he wanted to go backwards and stumbled away from the stranger. Yet, they seemed weak, almost unable to keep him upright. Not that he really got to dwell on his equilibrium as the larger Irken made another grab at him, using his own pak legs to shepherd Dib backwards and into the wall like a cornered rat.

A growl escaped the changeling which surprisingly made his attacker look alarmed for a moment. Then, dwelling on the days when Zim would use his pak legs to run about the ceiling, did the same thing, using his new limbs clumsily to clamber over the top of his opponent. He didn’t get far though when his new legs suddenly gave out as if exhausted, making Dib fall to the floor with a yelp. The humanoid groaned as pain shivered up his form. That was no short fall. He quickly glared at his struggling legs at his side. The spindling limbs were certainly trying to pull him back up, but they seemed to keep slipping as if on ice.

“That’s enough out of you smeetling,” grumbled the bulky being as he grabbed those legs at the base of the pak as if pulling weeds. He then pulled the aching Dib to his feet and slammed him face first against a wall. Dib didn’t struggle at first, his head starting to feel light, but he almost balked when he felt the stranger’s hand touch his pak.

“Quit moving!”

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare!” yelled Dib as his struggling returned with a vengeance.

Not that the stranger took his threat to heart as Dib’s pak slid open, his legs retreating back into his pak. There was a moment of silence and then Dib squawked as he felt a hand reach into his machine. Not that he could really protest, his exhaustion was now making him physically weak. He couldn’t even complain as he listened to something click, like a switch, in his pak.

Sleep came quickly and without complaint.

“Your Zim’s helper I take it,” said Gritt as he walked over the taller being, watching curiosity as the bulky Irken almost carefully pulled the now off-line being into his arms as if he were a child. Well, considering the specimen’s age, Dib would be a child to most Irkens, wouldn’t he?

“Yes, I am. He’s lucky I even agreed otherwise our trump card would be dead,” grumbled the stranger as he looked around his working conditions. He then headed over to the berth that halfling had been on, laying Dib on his stomach as he grabbed the cord hanging from the ceiling. A soft click filled the room and a sigh escape the now slumbering patient. “This pak is too weak for someone of his size. Irk, he’s tall. Zim’s plan doesn’t seem as crazy now.”

The Voritan merely laughed at the statement, getting on top of the table to check out the pak’s recharge. “Yes, Zim is crazy, but he does have his bouts of genius … So, tell me, what is he offering you if we succeed?”

Sizz-Lorr pulled out a metallic part from a pocket and handed it to the scientist, grumbling the name of the part before simply stating, “He said I could be a General. Tuh, usually I’d rather ignore Zim, but I’m willing to have a change of heart for a position like that. Plus, he might be little more than a smeet, but I already like him. This … _Dib_. He could barely stand and yet he put up a fight.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah … now we see how our dear Sizz-Lorr became involved in this masquerade.


End file.
